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Anybody know any good recipes for barbecued muse?
Actual fanfic post here! No major spoilers, as far as I can tell:
'Ah, Tortuga!' the gentleman beside him said. 'The sights! The sounds! The sweet splendiferous smells! It's almost enough to make one feel alive again.'
Jack nodded. He had a feeling that there was something decidedly odd about the other; but as he'd spent the past week and a half drinking the captain's shares of that last treasure galleon the Pearl'd caught, things in general were a bit wavery. And being Captain Jack Sparrow, he'd always had a shaky grasp of the concept of 'reality,' anyway.
'Oh, do pardon me!' the other said. 'I've not introduced myself, have I? Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, at your service!' He politely doffed his head. 'And you'd be Captain Jack Sparrow, if the stories are at all right!'
Jack gazed at him. 'Nice hat,' he said eventually.
'Thank you,' said Sir Nicholas, prodding at a particularly droopy ostrich feather. "I've always said that a century where men can proudly wear plumes in their hats is a century worth sticking about for.' He tried to pick up his mug of buttered rum, and frowned when his hand went through it. 'I must admit you're taking this a bit better than I expected-- 'course, I don't know how much you'd know about our world already, although you do carry the compass of Gregory the Smarmy, so I suppose you've some idea what to expect--'
'You'd be a wizarding ghost then!' Jack said, enlightenment striking. That was why he was so silvery.
'Got it in one!' the knight said cheerfully. 'Since they passed the Secrecy Statute five years ago, we've had to be a bit more discreet, of course, but there've been a few problems shaking it down. For example, we can't exactly use Muggle pounds anymore; the Crown's bound to notice large amounts of specie disappearing.'
'Aye, that does tend to happen. They can get downright stroppy about it,' Jack agreed.
Nicholas nodded vigorously, then had to stop to realign his neck. 'But my employers-- well, part-time employers-- are trying to set up a bank and a mint, and they think they've come up with a solution. See, there's some stocks of gold the Muggles can't do much with, but they'd have no problem putting into circulation.' He looked at Jack sidewise. 'For example, at one of the Baron's parties last year-- dead boring affairs they are generally-- there was a new chap stopped by. Good taste in hats, but a somewhat creepy obsession with apples.' He peered into the smoky ceiling. 'He mentioned something about 882 identical medallions of Aztec gold, sitting in a stone chest all by their lonesome on an island, going to waste. And no-one can find them except the man who already knows where they are?'
'It's cursed,' Jack said quietly. 'Take as much as a single medallion from that chest, and you're trapped in limbo between life and death; drink will not satisfy, and food turns to ashes in your mouth.'
'Well, of course,' said Nicholas, 'Credit me with some sense. That's the point, isn't it?' He lifted his voice and softly sang,
'Warning, stranger, and take heed
Of what awaits the sin of greed
For those who take, but do not earn,
Must pay most dearly in their turn.'
He shrugged, head bobbing precariously. 'Curses can be useful, though, and my employers rather imagine they can come to an accord with the Aztec spirits-- they've endured much the same, the past three hundred years. Our kind will have much to answer for, one day,' he said, with a touch of melancholy, then cheered, 'At any rate, that particular curse wouldn't be much of a threat to me, now would it? I chose this-- this half-life, for reasons of my own, and I don't regret it yet. Well, not much. Most of the time, anyway." He took a deep non-breath and changed the subject. 'I'm not one for weightlifting, generally, these days, but if I save my strength, I'd certainly be up to knocking over one stone chest. That's why they sent me on this trip-- And once the gold's spilled, it ought to be safe enough, aye?'
'Aye,' said Jack, considering. 'You want to hire the Pearl to take you to Isla de Muerte, then.'
'That would be the idea, yes.'
'And what profit would be in it for us?'
'The goodwill of the goblins, for one thing,' the ghost replied. 'That could be rather valuable some day. Also, say, ten percent of the gold, once the curse is off?'
'Ten percent? Are you daft, man?'
'Well, fifteen, then.'
'Twenty-five.' said Jack firmly.
'Done!' said Nicholas merrily, and Jack had the sinking feeling he could have held out for quite a bit more. 'This will be fun,' the ghost continued, rubbing his hands gleefully. 'I haven't been out to sea since I herded the winds against the Armada with Sir Francis. I always did have a soft spot for pirates.'
'Ah, Tortuga!' the gentleman beside him said. 'The sights! The sounds! The sweet splendiferous smells! It's almost enough to make one feel alive again.'
Jack nodded. He had a feeling that there was something decidedly odd about the other; but as he'd spent the past week and a half drinking the captain's shares of that last treasure galleon the Pearl'd caught, things in general were a bit wavery. And being Captain Jack Sparrow, he'd always had a shaky grasp of the concept of 'reality,' anyway.
'Oh, do pardon me!' the other said. 'I've not introduced myself, have I? Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, at your service!' He politely doffed his head. 'And you'd be Captain Jack Sparrow, if the stories are at all right!'
Jack gazed at him. 'Nice hat,' he said eventually.
'Thank you,' said Sir Nicholas, prodding at a particularly droopy ostrich feather. "I've always said that a century where men can proudly wear plumes in their hats is a century worth sticking about for.' He tried to pick up his mug of buttered rum, and frowned when his hand went through it. 'I must admit you're taking this a bit better than I expected-- 'course, I don't know how much you'd know about our world already, although you do carry the compass of Gregory the Smarmy, so I suppose you've some idea what to expect--'
'You'd be a wizarding ghost then!' Jack said, enlightenment striking. That was why he was so silvery.
'Got it in one!' the knight said cheerfully. 'Since they passed the Secrecy Statute five years ago, we've had to be a bit more discreet, of course, but there've been a few problems shaking it down. For example, we can't exactly use Muggle pounds anymore; the Crown's bound to notice large amounts of specie disappearing.'
'Aye, that does tend to happen. They can get downright stroppy about it,' Jack agreed.
Nicholas nodded vigorously, then had to stop to realign his neck. 'But my employers-- well, part-time employers-- are trying to set up a bank and a mint, and they think they've come up with a solution. See, there's some stocks of gold the Muggles can't do much with, but they'd have no problem putting into circulation.' He looked at Jack sidewise. 'For example, at one of the Baron's parties last year-- dead boring affairs they are generally-- there was a new chap stopped by. Good taste in hats, but a somewhat creepy obsession with apples.' He peered into the smoky ceiling. 'He mentioned something about 882 identical medallions of Aztec gold, sitting in a stone chest all by their lonesome on an island, going to waste. And no-one can find them except the man who already knows where they are?'
'It's cursed,' Jack said quietly. 'Take as much as a single medallion from that chest, and you're trapped in limbo between life and death; drink will not satisfy, and food turns to ashes in your mouth.'
'Well, of course,' said Nicholas, 'Credit me with some sense. That's the point, isn't it?' He lifted his voice and softly sang,
'Warning, stranger, and take heed
Of what awaits the sin of greed
For those who take, but do not earn,
Must pay most dearly in their turn.'
He shrugged, head bobbing precariously. 'Curses can be useful, though, and my employers rather imagine they can come to an accord with the Aztec spirits-- they've endured much the same, the past three hundred years. Our kind will have much to answer for, one day,' he said, with a touch of melancholy, then cheered, 'At any rate, that particular curse wouldn't be much of a threat to me, now would it? I chose this-- this half-life, for reasons of my own, and I don't regret it yet. Well, not much. Most of the time, anyway." He took a deep non-breath and changed the subject. 'I'm not one for weightlifting, generally, these days, but if I save my strength, I'd certainly be up to knocking over one stone chest. That's why they sent me on this trip-- And once the gold's spilled, it ought to be safe enough, aye?'
'Aye,' said Jack, considering. 'You want to hire the Pearl to take you to Isla de Muerte, then.'
'That would be the idea, yes.'
'And what profit would be in it for us?'
'The goodwill of the goblins, for one thing,' the ghost replied. 'That could be rather valuable some day. Also, say, ten percent of the gold, once the curse is off?'
'Ten percent? Are you daft, man?'
'Well, fifteen, then.'
'Twenty-five.' said Jack firmly.
'Done!' said Nicholas merrily, and Jack had the sinking feeling he could have held out for quite a bit more. 'This will be fun,' the ghost continued, rubbing his hands gleefully. 'I haven't been out to sea since I herded the winds against the Armada with Sir Francis. I always did have a soft spot for pirates.'
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*sigh*
I'll read it after I see the movie, if ever.
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You aren't missing anything if you don't read it.
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