Yar Har! Chapter Numero Uno

Disclaimer bollox:
I do not own the Character Gangplank or any other characters mentioned within this story that are owned by the companies Hasbro, Riot or anything else that somehow managed to squirm it's way into my story. Everything is used for entertainment purposes and has no monetary value for me. I will sue myself if I put either of the guards from Mareoid in here though, because I'm a lazy bastard who can't make up names no matter how much I try to ignore the voices in my head.

Restating this because it's actually important; Major thanks to those who helped me write like an actual human being. Strays, Dzamie and The Equestrian Gentlecolt turned me from a stark-raving mad theorist with a liberal arts degree to a respectable human being. To this I owe them my life... and also my axe.

“Bwahahahaha! Look at the landlubbers, mateys! They and their ship shall be visiting the depths of the sea.” Captain Gangplank pumped his sword into the air and continued jeering and cheering as much as a drunk and jolly pirate should.

From somewhere beneath the waves of the sea a faint, “oh bother,” could be heard bubble up to the surface.

“Aye captain, not a ship among the seas can best the Dead Pool!” The man would have continued kissing Gangplank’s ass if not for a bang and a newfound hole in his chest. A monkey riding upon him decided this was the best time to jump off and find more slightly rotted vegetables, and the man decided this was the best possible time to slam into the ground and gurgle blood a few times.

Gangplank scrunched his face in confusion then looked down the barrel of his pistol. “Either I’ve been drinking or- *hiccup*... no, it was definitely the drink. Davy Jones, I was aiming for the monkey.” Flashes of Wukong surfaced in his brain, but they were quickly dragged back into the nether reaches by a guzzle of rum. His crew had quieted their cheering to stare at the dead man, then, in his honor, a few came up and tossed him off the ship like a bad rug. “No matter! We shall plunder their booty, and ring up any survivors!” A shipwide yell of approval emanated from the Dead Pool and the captain got behind the wheel to turn the ship about the wreckage.

“Captain,” another shipmate called out from the deck.

“What is it, bucko?!”

“You are going the wrong way.” He was new.

“...” A second bang echoed over the deck, along with a second corpse. “Ok, that time, I meant to hit the man.”

“‘Tia, what art thou doing?! Thou art making a mockery of us in front of the esteemed guests.” Luna was flaming red from embarrassment and was in the middle of forcing her bigger (and drunker) sister into a sitting position. But Celestia would have none of that; she demanded more drinks and, as she put it, “oh-so-fine” stallions.

“Lighten up, Woona- *hiccup*- it’s a party! You just need a little more action in your life... or bedroom.” Luna gave up on her efforts and slowly slumped into a corner where she could live out the rest of the night as a personified tomato in peace. Celestia turned her lustful gaze elsewhere and spotted something that greatly confused her immortal mind. “Hey! I do not know who you think you are but I am totally digging that look...” Unbeknownst to Celestia, the ice sculpture of herself was not adept in the art of lovemaking; this however did not stop her sex rampage upon the cool construct.

After chipping every cylindrical shape on the sculpture, Celestia slipped her bedmate a few bits along with a scroll containing a means of communication: “Just ask Twilight to send a letter; she shouldn’t say no, but if she does, then I know you can handle it.” The princess gave the deformed block of ice a wink and swayed back towards the center of the ballroom.

An area was made clear around Celestia by all those who were still sober and/or sane as she continued to drink, discuss gossip among random objects and ponies alike, and even announce that she was about to “spice up” this party. Luna was still cowering in the corner and looked about ready to boil over like a kettle of tomato soup.

Now, this party had started off like most occasions hosted by the royal sisters. Guests arrived in their snobby cliques, while the princesses stood attendant and politely nodded their heads to each arrival in turn. This would happen simultaneously with them silently placing a pox upon their respective families and or pets, and the servants would work their black magic in the ballroom (how do they hold up those giant plates?!).

Of course, like every other time, Celestia got to such an extreme level of utter boredom that she looked to her sister and began to speak psuedo-telepathically. They obviously couldn’t do this, but after many millennia with the same being by her side, it became easy to interpret body language or subtle vocale. This she did while toning out the pony in front of her, who was entering a monologue on the current economic affairs of the fish market. It didn’t help that he never once opened his eyes, as if he expected the world to just physically bend to meet his expectations.

“I cannot believe he’s talking to me AGAIN, this is, like, the fifth time this evening he’s tried to teach me about the troubles his company is apparently having in Hoofington harbor,” she bodily whined to her blue sister.

Luna glanced at her and gave a slight stiffening of the lips. “And I cannot believe you still don’t force these ponies to bow at your hooves like you used to,” was what she obviously meant. Gestures also translated into normal Equestrian because it is impossible to charade a “thou”.

“And as you can see, princess, if you could just raise a few tariffs on the gryphon imports-” droned the pony wearing the well tailored suit.

“I do not wish to rule with such an iron hoof any longer. The age of a tyrant princess is what led to Discord,” said Celestia with a hoof shuffle and shoulder roll.

Luna rolled her eyes and wiggled her nose. “You have become too soft. But I do agree. What should we do to keep us from knocking ourselves out?”

“I believe we should announce a more lively entertainment. Hopefully that will keep these uptight idiots distracted while we sneak off and order the guards to bring back a pizza box.” Ear waggle, eye twitch, tongue-in-cheek.

“And if anyone can make something disappear, it’s you-” The snob was strong in this one.

Luna smiled, bits of drool lolled out of her mouth and she nodded desperately. The two looked back over the proceedings and spoke at once.

“FREE CAKE AND WINE FOR ALL-”

“WE SHALL BE ATTENDED BY THE GREAT MUSICAL TALENTS OF OCTAVIA THE CELLIST!”

Both alicorns froze then looked to each other, Celestia with a death glare and Luna smiling sheepishly.

“Call me a psychic, but I think there was a lapse in communication.”

“... I thought you said we would be serving mountains of cake,” Luna said with a smile befitting one who had just fucked up.

Celestia looked back forward. The pony who had been a foot from her hooves not a moment ago was now laying on the foot of the stairs while gripping his ears in pain, and all the ponies in the room had nothing but quizzical looks about their faces. One could only guess whether it was the promise of cake or the fumbling of words between the two immortal goddesses.

In the end it was Luna’s announcement that held the most weight among the guards, as they had immediately vacated the area to inform the kitchen of the newest order.

Now, chefs have always been magical. They can cook food your mouth would orgasm for if it had its own brain. Mix this in with a dose of actual magic and you get something profound and legendary that will be sung throughout the ages by even the most cynical of critics.

The literal hill of cake was delivered in fifteen minutes along with a bucket of wine the size of a tacky fashionista boutique. To say the ponies dug into it would be both an over and understatement. The ponies themselves remained about as posh as you could get without walking like four sticks tied to a log, but the cake itself didn’t last ten minutes. Ponies routinely came back for extra helpings of deliciousness and a glass of nondescript wine.

By this time, Celestia had settled into her chair with a heavy sigh. The few moments that monstrosity of a pastry would give her were not to be wasted. At least, she had planned not to waste those few precious seconds of calm, right before she was shouted at from practically two feet away.

“Well howdy thar, princess!”

Her eyes opened with a high-pitched crack. “Why, hello there, Applejack. To what do I owe the pleasure?” It took every ounce of love and tolerance in her immortal soul not to light the pony on fire.

“Well gosh, princess. Ah noticed ya were more stressed than Twilight after a study session so Ah decided to brin’ ya ah glass of an ol’ family brew! Apple flavor, of course.” From within the confines of her hat, Applejack produced a fairly large jug of questionable liquid. The front was covered in Xs and Celestia could hear the “family brew” slosh inside.

“And what, dearest Applejack, is in this special drink?” Although the sarcasm wasn’t attempting to penetrate her voice anymore, she still felt apprehensive at the thought of drinking what could possibly be bootleg moonshine.

The redneck farmer took a quick look inside the jug, as if forgetting its contents, and then took a long glance at Celestia before slowly drawling, “Well... it’s like cider.... ‘cept more.... better. It’s got apples!”

Celestia took a mental leap and guessed that Applejack had already taken one or two swigs of that particular brew. Applejack produced two wine glasses out of her hat in the same manner as the jug before filling them up and handing one to the sun goddess. She considered the glass for a second as it rested in the grip of her hoof. “Someday I will learn how ponies do that with hats...”

“Well, yer majesty. CHEERS!” Half of the drink didn’t even make it into Applejack’s mouth as she literally turned the glass upside-down above her head.

Celestia gave a final shrug of her shoulders and decided to humor the pony. It wasn’t as if immortals got drunk easily. It would take wagon loads of alcohol before she would even begin to feel the effects, or a singular momentous concoction. But that had only happened once, and the drink was made by Discord. Something he named “Exploding Chocolate Milk”.

Bringing the glass to her lips, she began gulping the liquid down as elegantly as one could. The mixture burned through her throat and sprang to life in her gut, enveloping her entire midsection in a powerful warmth. She gave a quick cough and squinted at the brew, its dark nature giving her quizzical thoughts. She brought the soothing drink back up for another pass, downing the whole glass in a second swig.

She didn’t even realize she had trotted towards the congregated guests before her world went hazy and black.

“We do not know why our sister hath turned into a raving drunkard! She had ONE glass of spirits. ONE!”

“Well, when was the last time she drank, your highness?” The guard nervously glanced at the solar princess who was running amok in the ballroom. Not moments before, she had bitch-slapped a pony that smelled like fish.

“We do not recall her ever even touching alcohol. In all our years, she hath not once drunk from the goblet.” Luna’s face was beginning to ripen a healthy red. Normally this would have been a joyous occasion between siblings (and a camera or two) but for her it was like watching all their credibility and royal respect crumble into pitiful little specks of dust. The kind of dust you would find on your bookcase but you're too lazy to clean up because it’s just that insignificant. Yeah, that kind.

Now the princess of the sun was at the height of her antics, for she stood in the center of the room upon her hindlegs. Stains of various degrees of obscenity adorned her coat, and the strong smell of alcohol not only tainted her breath but practically replaced it.

“Oookaaay mares and not mares, you thought this party was wild enough?! Well lookie what I got here.” Celestia produced a book out of bucking nowhere in one hoof, and an alcoholic beverage in the other. Inscribed upon the cover was a dialect nopony recognized along with a picture of what looked to be a great door. She then attempted to open it.

After several minutes, she remembered that trying to open a book and drink alcohol at the same time had less than satisfactory results. This led to an impasse; she could either toss the drink like half the lovers she had imprisoned that night, or remember that she was an alicorn. Celestia made the ultimate decision of chucking the glass of liquid at the speed of a high-velocity comet, which led to there being one less pony among the living. While most ponies were gasping at the high octane murder that had just transpired, others started backing away as the intoxicated goddess began chanting.

“Sdrawkcab siht daer ylsuoires uoy.” For a moment, nothing at all happened. A very audible sigh escaped the lips of one pony who had been assaulted by Celestia near the punch bowl not too long ago. But the sisters of fate were not kind to this brutalized pony, and reminded Celestia that magic was usually needed in a magical incantation. Celestia complied with her scattered memory banks, and added some juice into her love sti- er, horn while redoing the ritual: “NIAGA ti gniod era uoy.”

The pony who had thanked his lucky stars a moment earlier could now be heard wailing in terror as what looked like a giant, seaweed-covered doorway appeared two inches in front of his face. This doorway stretched to the top of the ballroom ceiling and was encrusted with barnacles and various disgusting sea life. What made this pony’s situation worse was that when the doors finally opened, they did so outwards. But he was hit in a special way that only made him fly in a straight line backwards, allowing the following ocean and ship from the gateway free reign upon his face, for their gods were cruel gods.

Captain Gangplank sat solemnly on the bow, looking over the ocean scenery and contemplating his life choices before remembering his life choices had made him a pirate and continuing to kick the limp bodies off the rail.

“Captain!” a pirate with but one eye and not much else called out. His feet were gone and so were both his arms. Nobody knew how, but by using his wooden stubs as bludgeoning devices, he could outfight pretty much anyone in a one-on-one. He was also the owner of that accursed monkey.

Gangplank turned and shot his pistol over the man’s shoulder in an attempt to rid the world of another ball of fur. He had predicted the location of the monkey poorly, however, and instead shot one of the gagged prisoners in his now useless foot. “Quit yer bellyaching ya landlubber! Not like ya were gonna need that foot anyhow... aye, matey?”

“There appears to be a door, captain.”

Gangplank reloaded his pistol and pushed it against the man's head; the man was close enough to practically smell the gangrene on the sea scourge. “Alrighty bucko, ya have about five finger-tappin’ seconds to tell me why that is of any importance. Otherwise, the ship-boy will have to clean yet another person's brains off the floor, and I swear it won’t be Kevin’s again.”

The man swallowed hard and remembered that fateful day of drunk Gangplank and poor Kevin; he had been in the wrong place at the wrong time... or the right place at the right time from Gangplank’s perspective. Either way, he was still alive, if a little bit scatter brained *rimshot*. Gangplank turned his attention, and pistol, towards the ship drummer. Not a moment was spared between his look of complete “fuck you” and the pistol going off. To be fair, Gangplank has a fairly equal mortality to shots fired rate, as long as you count friendlies.

“Well captain, this door be on the sea surface, and it happened to appear out of nowhere. It feels tainted, captain.”

Gangplank decided a swift swat with the end of his pistol would settle his drunken rage at being told “there is a door”, however true it was. He swayed back and forth as he tried to keep the sluggish rhythm of a still boat and walk like a decent human. To anyone else, this looked like a person who was currently tripping acid and attempting to complete a 100 meter dash with no equilibrium. Gangplank sighed in defeat and drank more from his rum bottle, instantly rekindling his spirits and causing him to gain the awesome power of bipedal movement; ‘twas a sight to behold.

As Gangplank neared the opposite end of the ship, he spotted the cluster of shipmates who were gathering around to view the spectacle that was... a door. To be fair, it was a barnacle-encrusted and ship-sized door, but it was still a door. And as any pirate knows, doors are meant to keep someone away from whatever lays inside, and this particular pirate had come to the conclusion that some serious booty must be behind this ghostly construct.

Shouting instructions in what could be considered “drunken pirate speak” (which is pirate speak if you were highly Irish at the moment), Gangplank commanded his crew to turn the ship a whole 180 degrees and unfurl the sails. They were going to bash the wooden portal down like one would a virgin whore on her first day, although the whores probably don’t all have to deal with such abusive tactics.

Gangplank made his way back to the bow of the ship, tripping more than actually walking, and slowly climbed on top of the prow. He lay there for a moment, majestic in the still picture, but then remembered his occupation for a second time and jumped up with sword in hand, ready to plunder the door booty.

The Dead Pool was mere feet (or your nautical equivalent) from the construct as it opened violently, sucking the ship in along with waves of sea salt, and a laughing captain.

The rushing sea water came just a fraction of a second ahead of the boat, so the pony in front of the door had just enough time to have his eyes burn like a motherfucker before the boat itself crashed into him like Gragas would a low health carry. Wood splintered and metal screeched as the ship made its way across floor and pony alike; Gangplank’s head hurt from this annoying sound and made a mental note to kill someone extra hard for this. When the boat finally (and violently) settled on the wall opposite the door, Gangplank surveyed his surroundings, stopped for a moment, looked at his bottle of rum, and took a mighty final swig before hurling it behind him like a bad wench. A shatter and cry of pain signaled his aim was still good.

“Alrighty ya fancy horses! I be Captain Gangplank, and I ask, where be ye booty!” He made sure, of course, to flourish his sword to keep up the badass look. After ramming his ship into one of the land’s inhabitants’ face, he had to make sure to look as not-totally-drunk as possible.

Celestia saw this request for booty and, in her mentally handicapped state, took it up for the betterment of her people. She then presented herself in the position Twilight had inadvertently taught her a week before; flank in the air and bedroom eyes galore. Of course, it was slightly creepy to turn a childhood “hoofshake” into a sex pose, but sometimes an opportunity just needs to be taken up. “If you be looking for booty, I guess I’ll just have to oblige.”

Gangplank saw this presentation and turned a confused eye towards his crew; half of them were standing mouth agape while the other half were taking similar glances towards their drink of choice; he felt pity for the one currently holding the rum the rest of the crew had spiked with gunpowder. Davy Jones knew what the hell he was seeing.

He turned back and blinked a few times to confirm the scene... yup, still there. He thought for a moment on what could have possibly brought him to this moment in time, and came up with “hell if I know.” “Well ya wench, I admire ye enthusiasm, but I don’t think takin’ ya would be a good idea whatsoever... ya be a horse. We will be pillagin’ ye treasures and jewels though. Buckos! Grab all that shines and glints in this castle!”

The crew cheered in approval at ol’ Captain Gangplank’s command, and began to set off. Unfortunately, more than half of them forgot they had a plank to use as a ramp. It was also too bad that the most of those idiots landed face-first upon the floor. Gangplank could only give a mighty facepalm and yell out, “For Davy Jones’ sake, lads, GET YE LEGS UNDER YA!” Once again, many were quick to reply, but a few found that motor control was quite beyond their physical capabilities and saw fit to drop onto the floor like a pack of drunken penguins. Gangplank’s pistol went off each time a member fell down... needless to say, there were very few crew left in the bunch.

After what seemed like an agonizing set of minutes, the entire crew was lined up next to the ship, gently nudging aside the pile of dead morons. Gangplank stared at them indifferently with patience rivaling that of a buddhist priest before screaming, “WHAT ARE YA LOOKIN’ TO ME FOR?! GO PILLAGE THESE PONIES!” In what seemed like a classic Benny Hill film, the mates of the ship started dashing in random and obscene directions in order to grab shiny things.

Celestia felt enraged by this complete ignorance by the captain and decided it was time for her to act. Dashing to her sister of the night, Celestia started stammering out what appeared to be a sentence. Although no mere mortal could decipher it, Luna herself was able to make out a few words among the pile of grunts and squeals, “SHOW ME-NIGHTGOWN-CROTCHLESS-THAT THING YOU DO WITH THE MONKEY-”

Luna stood up and pleaded to her fellow goddess. “Please dear sister! Thou must stop this madness, thou hast not taken to the liquor in over a millenia. Thou hast turned into a common drunkard with the power to literally move the sun.” None of this even fazed Celestia, as she had taken it upon her to physically push her sister back down to prone level with her own nose. Luna made the equivalent of the sound “meep” before shaking a wavy hoof in the absolute vaguest direction to her room possible and then disappearing back into her corner of solitude.

Celestia felt she understood the meaning and made her way to the moon goddess’ room. In there she found the princess’ royal dresser, and in there she found the princess’ not-so-royal nightgown. Celestia began to laugh a very maniacal laugh, one that seemed to rival Nightmare Moon’s in pure, unadulterated evil. That was before a strange little filly walked up to the door of the room and spoke. “Pwincess? What’s that gown say on it? Cuuuhhmguuh-” Celestia let out a painfully loud shriek and then slammed the door with the force of the previously thrown alcohol bottle. A loud yelp and subsequent thud followed; the filly had been standing in the doorway.

Some time had passed, and Gangplank had found his leisure sitting atop a throne made of lots o’ shiny things. One thing in particular the crew had found was a mighty statue of some sort of strange horse that oddly resembled the one horny thing that had pestered him earlier. He made a mental note to shoot the equine later. His crew had also found a similar horse cowering in a corner not too far from the ship. It was literally glowing red and shivered profusely. This land just seemed strange to the sea scourge, but as long as booty was to be had, he could not care less.

This time was also the perfect time for something strange to happen, let's say... a horse in a nightgown and crotchless panties screaming at the top of her lungs while speeding towards Gangplank? Yes, this frightened the ship captain, even disturbed him somewhat. But he wasn’t about to let this wench win; he had dealt with sexually confused (or in this one’s case, “disturbed”) people before, and he assumed ponies could be dealt in the same way.

He waited till he saw the whites of her overly cartoonish eyes, and then gave the signal: “VIIIIIIRRRRRRRRRRRRRGIIIIIIIIINNNNNNN!” Every single bloody pirate within a half-mile radius heard the call and naturally gravitated to the spot Gangplank had marked. Their bodies collapsed into each other and on top of the horse. Wolf whistles could be heard among the pile of flesh and testosterone, along with the usual grunts of those who were not accustomed to having hundreds of pounds of man laying on top of them.

Gangplank sighed in relief as he thought this battle won, but his eyes went wide as a white glow seemed to pour out of every crevice in the pile. One pirate knew he had seen a situation like this before and quickly scrambled away from the group while yelling at the top of his lungs in fear. Gangplank tested his ability to fire while not looking at his target; it worked quite well. After an unsettling moment, the mountain of men exploded from the victim and sent shipmates soaring to every which way about the ballroom. The equine looked thoroughly pissed and smelt of alcohol in a way that rivaled Gangplank’s own stench.

Gangplank stood up and the two matched into a contest of stares, the giant ovals of the pastel whore pony, and the normal ellipses of the pirate captain. Needless to say, if Luna hadn’t bitch-slapped Gangplank upside his head, he might have won. “We will be in our room sister, wash our things when thou art done,” was about all that was said before the white sun goddess was upon Gangplank, pinning his arms and legs down, and giving him sultry looks.

Celestia’s voice came out ragged and her eyes seemed to have developed craziness. “Now, what was that about needing booty.” Gangplank gulped. The gods of another realm smiled upon him at that moment though, for a new voice rang out among the destruction and kinky chaos. “Celestia? What in the wide world of magic is going on here?!” All heads swiveled to the entrance of the ball room, their eyes met the forms of six more ponies and one human.

The shipmate among the newcomers was the first to speak after the lavender one’s outburst. “I found some different ponies, captain~!” The last note was practically sung. “They wanted to see you after they saw the... results of our search.”

Gangplank cocked an eyebrow to his hairline. “Well why weren’t ya in the pile, boy? I gave the signal.”

The bucko merely shook his head before flamboyantly twisting on his heels and strutting away. Gangplank blinked at this and then went wide eyed in realization. “Out of all the lads I killed... HE lived? Davy Jones, I promised I would string him up by his guts after that cucumber incident...”

A few seconds passed then Gangplank realized he was slipping into a flashback. This gave the captain an idea which he had not even considered for reasons that evaded him. Popping a few oranges into his mouth at once he immediately felt the rejuvenating effects of citrus. His body flew into a standing position, not only tossing away the alabaster horse-with-wings in the process but also staving away the possible homo-erotic memory. With his few seconds of freedom, he took stock of the slowly dying situation. He was currently being hunted by a possibly feral mega-pony in heat, most of his crew were either dazed by said pony or in need of a necromancer, and now a new group of ponies had been led to him by the one crewmember within his entire ship that had ever “stuck” him and lived to tell the tale.

Gangplank considered these odds for a moment before taking one look above the sexualized fanatic and making a decision. He shot once then ran for his bloody life.

The bullet impacted the sole connector between a particularly large chandelier (not compensating for anything) and the ceiling above it. The hoity-toity light fixture crashed to the ground and engulfed the raving lunatic while Gangplank sped zig-zagging to his ship, screaming “whoopwhoopwhoopwhoopwhoop” the entire way.

The six new ponies were left dumbfounded and speechless as their drunken leader was knocked cold by a surprisingly expensive glass decoration brought down by an alien creature dressed as a pirate who consistently made unintelligible noises. It was one of those days. The purple unicorn shook her head fiercely before barking a command to her allies then galloping to the wet alien spacecraft. One yellow pegasus who looked about as brave as the local chihuahua stayed behind to check on their white ruler.

By this point Gangplank had already made his way into his ship’s hold, and was searching desperately for a set of items. A smile befitting a man wearing white makeup and a set of mouth scars appeared on his face when he found the particular barrel he was looking for. This one looked like the rest but for a single white “100%” mark. Giggling with a twinkle in his eye, Gangplank began removing and equipping items before swaggering his way back above deck.

Five ponies were there waiting for him, each with a fire in their eye, and one of them actually on fire. Gangplank ignored this, as he was used to mammals being mysteriously set alight for no discernable reason. What he did find quite laughable was the sight of one winged-pony he had somehow not noticed before. This particular sub-horse was the proud owner of a rainbow mane.

He tried to hold it in, he even doubled over as if in excruciating pain. His face was a deep red and his hands were covering his mouth. The ponies all gained a new expression of sheer confusion on their faces. The rainbow (HA) one spoke. “Who the heck are you and why the heck are you and your monkey friends destroying the castle?!” (She is using sub-curse words ohmygoshitssopreciousandcutesyBWAHAHAAH!)

This sent him over the edge... literally. He began laughing so hard that he fell backwards through the hole he had used to walk upstairs.

The ponies looked down the hole after him and saw his prone form hysterically guffawing at the bottom of what looked like an eight-foot drop. His fists were beating the wood and his mouth was desperately trying to regulate air and “hardy-har-har” flow. The equines all scowled down after him; this was obviously serious business yo. The purple unicorn (he nicknamed her Di-bitch-na) took one step forward then shrieked and pulled her hoof back when the step exploded in a shower of wood splinters.

Gangplank raised his still red face to look at the ponies. “Don’t ya be takin’ one more step, you technicolor freaks of nature.” He began stepping back up while systematically reloading and firing his pistol near the ponies. Each shot struck the ground next to their hooves or sailed past their heads by centimeters. His aim wasn’t off, he was just scaring them.

The equines lost ground as he began to push them back to one side of the ship. Their flanks hit the rail, and each began to sweat nervously. Looking back, they could see that the rest of his crew had already recovered and returned to their pillaging. Two of them were transporting the yellow pegasus “prisoner style” to the ship. This left her hanging comically above the ground, her little hooves waving furiously in the air in an attempt to touch solid stone. It was cute, in a “I’msorryIdon’twannadiepleasepleaseplease” sorta way.

The crewmates tossed her onto the ship like they would any other being of meat and bone: with careless aim and far too much power. The screaming pony was sent streaking above the railing, past her friends, above a seemingly indifferent Gangplank and smack-dab into the center of the ship’s mast. Gangplank’s face didn’t even shift as the pony slowly slid down the pole with a high-pitched squeak from the friction. Her rump hit the floor and she let out a final “meep” before falling onto her back.

“Thanks, lads,” said Captain Gangplank to his most marvelous crew.

Tossing the fetal-position equine to her friends, Gangplank then was interrupted before he could give them an order. A bright magenta light flooded his vision; this had happened to him many, many, MANY times before, but he never could quite get used to it.

“LASER!” Gangplank slammed his whole body to the ground and covered his pirate hat in a vain attempt to save it from prismatic doom. But when only more flashes came he peeked his head out and saw Di-bitch-na popping in and out of existence like Kassadin while taking one of her friends through on each pass.

“Oh no ya don’t ya pastel excuse for a mage!” Gangplank whipped out his pistol while still prone on the ground and fired at the last friend left on the deck. As he predicted, the unicorn flashed back into existence next to her friend and touched her horn to the ponies chest.

They both phased out in less then a second, but not before the bullet struck home right in between them, hitting the horn dead center.

Gangplank didn’t see the result, but he did manage to catch the faint sound of utter anguish from the pony whom we could only assume would be his archrival from then on. “Good enough for me.”

The crew, unfazed by the ending of that particular affair brought the still-dazed raving sex addict to the deck. “And what about this one, captain?”

Gangplank crawled to the railing and looked down at the appalling land/air creature. “We’re gonna need a bigger cannon, lads.”

The Everfree forest was enjoying a moment of peace for one of the few times it gets in a month. The unponied weather (seriously, that’s, like, so weird) presented a tranquil moon above the cool forest. It was almost an irony when a series of explosive bursts of magic decimated the local fauna.

In what seemed as either an act of God or Hades, the ponies climbed out of their respective holes very much so alive. Beaten, bruised, cut, exhausted, mentally scarred, dirty, and jet lagged from traversing time and space... but alive.

With the last blast of purple light came a cry of pure and unadulterated terror. It was the sound of one particular unicorn.

“MY HOOOOORRRRRN! HE BROKE MY HORN! What will I do without my horn!?” She chose this moment to run about the makeshift clearing, screaming at the top of her lungs and slowly devolving into a disheveled state worse than even Rarity’s worst nightmares.

“Twilight, darling, I know this looks bad but you must stop this squabbling. Horns grow back dear, and I’m sure you can find a spell to help it out.” This was met with more whining.

Rarity looked to her pink friend for help in this predicament and was met by the sight of one prepared for war. A birthday present tied to one foot and a slinky to the other, the pony was adorned with balloon animals, fake faces and what looked to be an actual cake strapped to her back. Truly the work of a veteran.

As the doom bringer of sadness marched unto the fields of war, Rainbow Dash promptly gave up something she didn’t even attempt and began gathering wood for a fire, and even Applejack started looking for anything edible nearby.

After half an hour of grueling hard work the group was able to set up camp in the near darkness next to a pitiful fire. It had taken time, energy and had even brought their friendships to their breaking points, but they had all staved off the possible murder scenario that comes with something so complicated as setting wood alight. Rainbow stood triumphant over the fire, having used her aerodynamic speed to literally light the log on fire while going at ludicrous speeds, and began to do a victory dance when a faraway sound caught the group’s attention.

At first it seemed like a manticore was barreling towards them, but then they noticed it was coming from above the forest, and almost sounded like somepony screeching.

Of course Rainbow was still dancing when an object the size of a outhouse blasted the fire into oblivion, creating a hole in the shape of a royal figure in the process. Fluttershy flopped onto her back with a shriek and became rooted to the ground while everypony else stopped and stared open mouthed at this event. Although it might not have been the strangest thing to happen to them in the last hour, it was still worth noting that even the hole looked like it was drunk.

Gangplank watched as the royal keister of his would-be molester rapidly decreased in size over the horizon. He gave a contented sigh to this; cannoning people out of the freaking stratosphere usually perks one’s mood.

Turning on his heel, he then strode up to the roped captives and took note of the “inventory,” so to speak. One deep-blue winged-horned-horse-thing much like the other, six earth ponies dressed in fancy-shmancy suits who were still holding their trays despite the crew’s best efforts, twenty-four armored ponies of various- one began lighting his horn with power then keeled over with a new head orifice- twenty-three armored ponies of various races, and seventy-two ponies of all shapes and sized dressed in ridiculous attire.

This was one thing Gangplank had puzzled over; ponies never wore clothing back in his land. And if these ponies were like them, then why did they consider it fancy to wear them to a party? Gangplank looked back to the freak of nature with the moon plastered upon its rear. “Hey, pony-thing that clubbed me head. Do ya know this castle?”

The aforementioned pony-thing leveled her gazed with his then slowly nodded.

“Good, then ya will be me wench. Not for the sex, just because I don’t want any of the crew touching ya... they have been at sea for longer than I would like to admit.” Suffice to say, the pony-thing looked slightly horrified, but was immediately picked up and the tossed into the ship by several pirates. Gangplank turned his attention back to the prisoners.

He began looking between them and the windowless wall. An idea formed in his mind that made his face light up with a disturbing smile. It seems he would be able to keep good to a part of his name even on land.

It wasn’t easy, but after several hours of using Rarity’s fancy crown as a shovel, they were able to dig their immortal ruler out of the silhouette hole. Twilight tossed the ruined jewelry back to the sobbing unicorn who literally cried a waterfall of tears. Taking care, the rest of the group, sans Fluttershy, pulled Celestia out of the hole as best as they could before setting her unconscious form by the newly constructed fire.

Twilight took stock of the situation: one drunk, almighty princess who was currently sleeping; five shell-shocked ponies, two amongst them incapable of basic speech; barely a fire to keep them warm during the night; Fluttershy may as well have gone comatose from Celestia’s entrance; and her horn was cracked into several different jagged formations. The unicorn gave a heavy sigh before turning to her farmer friend. “What do you make of this situation, Applejack? Celestia is... drunk, a creature we have never seen before and its crew have taken over the castle, and we are too far away and tired to do anything about it.”

The applebucking hick took a look at her friend and the malformed horn before settling down and pulling her hat over her eyes with a groan. “That’s just it, Twi. We can’t do anything about it fer now. Best we recoop...recud...re-”

“recuperate?”

“Ya, that, best we do that then tackle this muddy issue in the morn’.” Twilight shook her head and attempted to dispute but could already hear snoring come from the farm pony. She gave another huff and glanced at Rainbow Dash, who was lying on her back with all four limbs stuck in the air like some sort of possum.

She laid her head to rest near the dying fire, falling slowly asleep to the sounds of a hyperventilating animal caretaker, a bawling fashionista and the sleeping mumbles of a drunken lunatic in heat.

Chapter 1 END

Now go read a book or something.

DELETED SCENE:

“You want us to what?” said the multicolor pride parade.

“Get in the bloody cannons before I send your head spinnin’ sideways from here to the friggin’ Valoran!”

“But what the horseapples are cannons?!” Gangplank ignored the possible euphemism and pointed at the ones he had lining the same railing they were backed up against.

Di-bitch-na began gathering power into her horn but paused when she noticed Gangplank bring the pistol level with one of her friends. She understood the message, “you try anything, and they won’t live to see it.” She released the energy and trudged to one of the cannons in defeat.

“What are these, some sorta cages,” asked the one who sounded suspiciously like Graves.

"OH MY CELESTIA THESE ARE SO DIRTY!” Gangplank slapped a hand to his face before grabbing the white unicorn by the pampered behind and shoving her face-first into the damn thing. Muffled shouts could be heard and subsequently ignored within the metal container.

“Whatever you’re planning on doing, it won’t work! You can’t hold us forever!” Said Di-bitch-na. Gangplank shoved a moldy apple into her mouth.

“Wasn’t plannin’ on it, bucko. Now where be that torch?”

The pirate searched the deck for the particular item while the rainbow (seriously... ha) one spoke, “wha-what do you need a torch for?”

“Oh nothing much,” Gangplank returned with the item then put it on the igniter, “ya better hope those wings can fly ya loudmouth excuse for a tomboy.”

“Wah-,” was about all that could be heard before a massive blast and a slowly dying scream took over the sound district within the sensory committee. The ponies looked to the spot their friend had been in not moments ago to see the smoking metal device sans rainbow pony. They followed the direction it was pointing at to see the giant wall of painted windows. Well, it used to be a giant wall of painted windows. Now there was just a giant wall with equally giant holes.

It didn’t take two plus two to figure out what the cannons did and where their friend went. Of course by this point Gangplank had set most of their igniters alite and was patiently awaiting their faces when they realized what was happening... ah, there they were.

One by one a massive boom erupted upon the deck until the yellow pegasus was the only one left. Gangplank had left that one specifically for last so that he could just listen to the ensuing pleas. He lit the fuse then took a step back.

“ohmygoshohmygoshpleasenopleasenopleasenonononononononoCELESTIAHELPMEEEEEE-,” and so on and so forth as she sailed into the night sky, free as a bird who had no wing control and was being weighed down by a rock.

Author's Note

This is one of those things that popped into my head and wouldn't stop bugging me. Eventually I wrote down the beginning scene then didn't bother with it for months, then I wrote the second scene with Celestia and one again left it alone for months. Then, after I finished Mareoid, I sat myself down, played three games of LoL as Gangplank then wrote the hell out of this. And I must say, I'm satisfied.

Now, you may be wondering why the deleted scene is there, or even what it's supposed to be attached to in the story. That deleted scene goes right after Fluttershy is tossed to her friends aboard the Dead Pool. Although I felt it was better written then the scene we chose, the new scene still made more sense with the "build-up". If you feel different then just copy the story into word and replace the scene while prancing about in delusion land.

Excuse me while I go slap Ex for ending the last chapter on a cliffhanger... it was a cliffhanger right?