Boarding Party • 21. "The Show Must Go Wrong" Part VI (Patreon)

As the Wound drifted away from Hardlan Isle, Cain sighed as he watched the billows of black puff in the sky. His eyes stinged from the thought that all the theatregoer’s riches would burn alongside them — D’anna and Majel’s eyes stinged from all that godsdammed smoke in the air.

“All that plunder… nothin’ but ash…” he sighed as he traced the top of the bulwarks with a bony finger.

“Don’t be too hard on yourself, Captain!” D’anna comforted him as she took off her poofy wig. “You… uh… well, let’s see… Oh! You killed all those people! You like doing that…!” 

“Aye, but it just isn’t the same as killin’ em an’ robbin’ em…” 

“Uhh…” the elf said as she scanned around the deck, trying to find a positive spin to put on the botched mission. Her eyes finally landed on Majel, still decked out as Lady Marchmain. She sat in the middle of the deck, chugging a bottle of booze and getting in all of the zombies’ way. She leaned on the crate of champagne she’d plundered from the theatre labeled DONAGHY’S. 

Without thinking, D’anna pointed to her with a thumb. “Oh! Don’t get too down, Captain! See? Majel plundered something! We pirated after all!” 

The cat’s ears shot up and she choked on her current sip. Godsdammit, D’anna…

She watched Cain spin around on one foot and glare at her.  “Cat! What be the maker of that bottle?” 

“Read the label,” she growled, tapping the box. She wore a scrunched-up face, nearing a hiss if the tension continued to rise.

Cain turned to D’anna. “Elf! What’s the label say?” 

The elf hesitated, remembering that it was suicide putting yourself between Majel and her alcohol. Her loyalty to the Captain and her loyalty to her best friend clashed until she eventually bowed down to her superior. “Donaghy’s, captain…” she sighed. 

The skeleton smiled and rubbed his hands together. “Donaghy’s! Fontaine’s gonna love a crate full of — well, a mostly full crate of Donaghy’s!” 

The cat chugged the rest of the bottle’s contents and, once it was empty, slammed it against the bulwark. She pointed the jagged end at Cain and huffed, “Don’t even think about it, Bones!” 

The skeleton didn’t do anything for a second. Then, he suddenly lunged towards the crate! 

However, Majel was quicker than he was (since it was over something far more important than life-or-death: life-or-sobriety). She snatched the captain mid-air and the both of them flopped down to the ground. They wrestled for a few seconds before Cain was twisted into a headlock by his much stronger First Mate. 

She dug a (rarely washed) thumb into his brain and wiggled it around. “I’ve had it with you… Sawyer Cain! Now, you WILL not touch my booze, and you WILL not send us on any more of these stupid-ass schemes…! Say it back to me!” 

“N-NAY!” the skeleton grunted through the pain. The cat dug deeper. “SAY IT!” 

“GRAH, FINE! I WON’T TOUCH ANY OF YER STUPID BOOZE AN’ WE’LL SETTLE FER SMALLER FIS — GRAAH, WHY THA HELL ARE YE STILL DIGGIN’?!” 

“I WANT YOU TO SAY IT IN A NOT-SHITTY WAY!” the cat bellowed. 

“NEVER!” the skeleton spat back. She dug her thumb even deeper.