Cutthroat Badminton

A/N: A silly story Whitney and I came up with at dinner one night.

Pirates of the Caribbean 3: Cutthroat Badminton

It was the pastime of a pirate. On isolated, deserted islands across the farthest reaches of the treacherous sea, after the treasure was buried, the call went up: "You, there! Fetch the nets and rackets! Mates, it's time to play… cutthroat badminton!"
Three players per game. No other rules. More like… guidelines. Unnecessary grievous bodily harm, for example, was somewhat frowned upon (though not unheard-of). A true pirates' game.
Every great pirate tale included the game of cutthroat badminton. Beginning as an open secret only among those who pillaged and plundered, it was now common knowledge on every street of every pirate-plagued society. And every pirate could play.
Every pirate… except Captain Jack Sparrow.
That was the reason his crew had mutinied. That was the reason he'd lost the Black Pearl. And that was the reason he'd been stranded on a tiny bloody island with a compass that didn't point north and a pistol with one shot.
"We can't be followin' a captain," they'd said, "who can't play cutthroat badminton."
"Ye really expect us to go to Isla de Muerta," they'd asked, "with a captain who can't play cutthroat badminton?"
They'd made Barbossa their new captain. He was the regional cutthroat badminton champion. They'd replaced Jack with a monkey.
The monkey could play cutthroat badminton.
No one could ever know about this. Ever. If it ever because known that the legendary Captain Jack Sparrow couldn't play cutthroat badminton, his career would be over. No more adventures. No more Black Pearl. No more fun times in Tortuga.
Fortunately, now that the Black Pearl's damned former crew was not only damned but quite thoroughly dead, it seemed that Jack's secret had died with them. For some time now he'd gone about his business with no trouble—at least, no badminton-related trouble—and he had begun to think that he was safe.
Alas, this was not so.
For, the recent adventures concerning the black mark and the dead man's chest and so on being concluded, cutthroat badminton had been called for. And now he was staring down the incredulous, fiery glare of one Miss Elizabeth Swann.
"You don't know how to play cutthroat badminton?"
Jack Sparrow winced. "Now, I didn't say that. What I said, was that I didn't want to play cutthroat badminton."
"But Jack, why wouldn't you want to play, if you know how?" Will Turner asked him.
Will was looking at him with his puppy-dog eyes and Elizabeth was doing that thing with her eyebrow. He hated it when she did that thing with her eyebrow. It made it so hard to think.
After a moment of silence, said strumpet exclaimed, "Ah-HA! You can't! You can't play!" She stepped back, shaking her head. "I don't believe it. The famous Jack Sparrow—"
"Captain Jack Sparrow—"
"Does not know how to play cutthroat badminton!" Elizabeth was not the only one reacting with disbelief. There was a general muttering amongst the crew, and even Mr. Gibbs was looking at him with a stranger's eye. "What kind of pirate does this make you?" Elizabeth continued. "I can play cutthroat badminton! In a corset!"
Jack waved his arms to silence her. "Shhhhh! All right, all right—" he stopped, distracted. "Only a corset?" She made to slap him, and he waved his arms again. "All right, all right, fine. I can't…" he sighed heavily, and continued in a confidential tone of voice. "I never learned how to play cutthroat badminton."
Will frowned. "You mean… no one ever taught you?"
"Not… exactly, no." This was going to be mutiny all over again, he could tell. And all because that blasted girl had insisted he play. She was far more trouble than she was worth, he'd always said so.
"So…" Mr. Gibbs was trying to work it all out. "All those times… you said you couldn't play… Ye'd got too much sun or ye'd gotten cramps from swimming after eating…"
Jack shrugged, a defeated man. "What can I say, mate? Can't play a game if no one's told you which rules you can and can't break, savvy?"
A bright, feminine voice broke through his curtain of self-pity. "We can teach you!" proclaimed Miss Elizabeth Swann. "We can, can't we, lads? Come on!"
But, just as Jack had known they would, the crew only muttered and shuffled their feet.
"Oh, come on!" Elizabeth turned her glare on the men. "What's the matter with you? Your friend and your captain needs to learn how to play cutthroat badminton!"
"You see, Miss," Gibbs stepped forward timidly. "It's terrible bad luck to teach yer own captain to play the game. He ought to know already. It's sort of against the Code, Miss."
"Those who fall behind stay behind?" Gibbs nodded, and she sighed in exasperation. "Fine. I'll teach you, Jack."
But now it was Jack who had the objection. There were only so many things a man's dignity would allow.
"Begging your pardon, Miss Elizabeth, but I'd just as soon you… didn't."
"Why not?"
Jack could not help but wince again. "It's a tad embarrassing, d'you see?"
Elizabeth did the eyebrow thing again. "Do you mean because I'm a woman?"
"That… would be the truth of it, yes." He braced himself for the inevitable verbal onslaught.
"So you'd rather embarrass yourself and sully your good name for all eternity than lower yourself to be taught the game of cutthroat badminton by a woman?"
He hesitated. It seemed like a trick question. "Yes?"
"It's your choice, of course, Jack, but I don't see why. After all, I taught Will."
All eyes shifted to young Mr. Turner, who kicked the dust sheepishly. "Well… I… um," Will spoke in his defense.
"Will!" Elizabeth exclaimed suddenly. "Will and I can both teach you, would that suit you better?"
Before any reply could be made, a shadow fell across the sun and every pirate tongue went mute at the approach of the stern figure of Commodore Norrington.
"What," spoke the Commodore, "is all of this, then?"
"Nothing, sir," Mr. Gibbs answered. "Nothing important, just some cutthroat badminton."
"Indeed." Norrington, as if by some sinister intuition, approached Jack Sparrow. "And you will no doubt head the team, Captain Sparrow."
"No doubt," Jack replied with a simper.
"Well, you had best get on with it, then."
At this, Jack was at a loss. "And you will be watching, will you?"
"Is that a problem, Captain?" Norrington asked with undisguised disdain.
Jack stuttered, and at last Elizabeth was obliged to speak. "As a matter of fact," she said with a false brightness, "Will and I were just about to give Captain Sparrow a… little lesson." She gave the Commodore what she hoped was a fetching smile. But it was to no avail.
Commodore Norrington snorted. "You don't know how to play cutthroat badminton?" He looked on Jack in mocking amusement. "Captain Jack Sparrow? I am scourge of piracy in the Eastern Caribbean and I can play cutthroat badminton! In this stupid wig and brocade!"
"Now, hold on, hold on just a minute." Jack waved him into silence. "That is completely incorrect. I can play cutthroat badminton. I play cutthroat badminton very well, in fact, Commodore."
"Excellent." Norrington did not change his expression. "In that case, you will play a game against me and my men."
Jack did not miss a beat. "Of course I will. Tomorrow." Jack gestured to the assembled pirates. "You wouldn't grudge a man a game with his mates, would you now?"
Norrington glanced at the men. "Of course not. Tomorrow, then, Captain Sparrow." With that, Norrington turned and walked off.
Jack spun about, slapping his hands together. "About this cutthroat badminton, then."
Elizabeth smiled and picked up a racket.

~Fin~


POTC belongs to Jerry Bruckheimer and Disney. Please do not copy or republish Erin's work without her express written permission. Thank you!