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Literature Text
Captain James Hook seethed.
Yet again, his latest attempt on Peter Pan's life had been foiled. The god-brat had cut him to pieces again, and thrown his mangled body overboard as crocodile food. The next morning, Hook had awoken in his bed, whole and alive.
"Damn it!" the pirate fumed, slamming his fist onto his desk with a loud bang.
Immediately, his trusted boatswain, Mr. Smee, came running, as he usually did when slamming noises occurred in the captain's quarters. "What's wrong, Captain?" the bo'sun asked.
"Pan, as usual," growled James. He gestured impatiently to Smee with his hook. "Fetch me some rum, Mister Smee."
"Aye, sir!" Smee nodded and scuttled off. Captain Hook counted the seconds until Smee returned. At three hundred, the bo'sun came back in, a half-empty bottle of rum in hand. "This be the last bottle we have on board, sir," he apologized, timidly fidgeting with his bandanna.
Hook sighed and tossed his brown ponytail. "It will do, Mister Smee," he said wearily, accepting the bottle and pouring some of the dark rum within into a highball glass on the desk. When filled to his satisfaction, Hook set the rum down and kicked back the glass, letting the fiery, bittersweet alcohol wash down his throat and give him the light-headed feeling he'd wanted. James had always been a lightweight when it came to alcohol, unlike much of his crew, and consequently tended to avoid the demon rum unless he absolutely needed a buzz.
"Captain," Smee asked, "what do you plan to do today?"
"The usual," said Hook bitterly. "Devise another plan to destroy Pan and set all our sorry behinds free that we may mature and be snuffed out in peace, only for the fairy-boy to dash us all against the rocks and feed my remains to the crocodile."
Yet again, his latest attempt on Peter Pan's life had been foiled. The god-brat had cut him to pieces again, and thrown his mangled body overboard as crocodile food. The next morning, Hook had awoken in his bed, whole and alive.
"Damn it!" the pirate fumed, slamming his fist onto his desk with a loud bang.
Immediately, his trusted boatswain, Mr. Smee, came running, as he usually did when slamming noises occurred in the captain's quarters. "What's wrong, Captain?" the bo'sun asked.
"Pan, as usual," growled James. He gestured impatiently to Smee with his hook. "Fetch me some rum, Mister Smee."
"Aye, sir!" Smee nodded and scuttled off. Captain Hook counted the seconds until Smee returned. At three hundred, the bo'sun came back in, a half-empty bottle of rum in hand. "This be the last bottle we have on board, sir," he apologized, timidly fidgeting with his bandanna.
Hook sighed and tossed his brown ponytail. "It will do, Mister Smee," he said wearily, accepting the bottle and pouring some of the dark rum within into a highball glass on the desk. When filled to his satisfaction, Hook set the rum down and kicked back the glass, letting the fiery, bittersweet alcohol wash down his throat and give him the light-headed feeling he'd wanted. James had always been a lightweight when it came to alcohol, unlike much of his crew, and consequently tended to avoid the demon rum unless he absolutely needed a buzz.
"Captain," Smee asked, "what do you plan to do today?"
"The usual," said Hook bitterly. "Devise another plan to destroy Pan and set all our sorry behinds free that we may mature and be snuffed out in peace, only for the fairy-boy to dash us all against the rocks and feed my remains to the crocodile."
Shanimuni (adj.): JAPANESE: Reckless; headlong.
Exploring "Stagnant Neverland", more. This is how Hook spends a normal mid-morning.
Exploring "Stagnant Neverland", more. This is how Hook spends a normal mid-morning.
Comments7
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Isn't weird for me to think of Hook and Smee from the Disney adaption?