Deep in the Caribbean...

  ...a rowboat glided smoothly through the waves, each stroke carrying its
two passengers closer to the looming mass of the Island of Melee.  It had
been a long trip, but the young man being ferried across the waves was
determined.  However, his guide was more aware of went on in these parts, and
had reason to be worried.
  "Ah, sir, you really sure you want to come this far," he asked his young
passenger.
  "Yeah.  Look I told ya, that's where I gotta go," came the standard reply.
  "But sir, these waters are..."  The guide looked around fearfully, as if
afraid of being overheard.
  Impatiently, the dark-haired young man stopped gazing at their destination
to face his companion.  "Spit it out, why doncha."
  "Ah, sir, have you heard of the story of the Ghost Pirate Kuno?"
  Bored, the young man rolled his eyes.  "No.  This some sort of bedtime
story or something?"
  The guide drifted into his age-old patter.  "Ah, very tragic story, sir.
Six months ago, a fearsome pirate named Kuno sail off to search for Secret of
Monkey Island.  But, a big thunderstorm sank his ship, and Kuno and his crew
all drown."
  "Ok, lemme guess.  They're still alive, right?"
  "Ah, customer is not quite right.  Dread Pirate Kuno now Ghost Pirate Kuno.
He sail waters between Melee and Monkey Islands in his unholy ship, killing
those he finds."  The guide eyed the young man hopefully.  "Customer want
turn back now, yes?"
  The young traveller shook his head.  "Nope.  I'm not gonna let a stupid
ghost story scare me off.  I'm ready for anything."
  The guide sighed.  He had to admire the boy's courage though.  Not even the
most courageous pirates sailed the seas anymore since Kuno died.  Perhaps
ignorance really was bliss.
  Out of curiousity, the guide caught the pigtailed man's attention.  "Ah,
sir, you not say what you want to go to Melee Island for."
  The young man blinked in surprise.  "Oh, I didn't?  Oh well, I suppose it's
no secret."  He fixed the guide with a determined look, before gazing back
at the shores of the Island of Melee.
  "My name's Ranma Saotome... and I want to be a pirate."

=============================================================================

                         C O M I N G   S O O N

=============================================================================

  "Well," said Mousse, the storekeeper, "I guess I could hike all the way
over to the Weaponmaster's and ask her if I can show you the way.  ONCE."
  Ranma smiled in success.  The fool was going to lead him right to her.  And
after all the practice he had gotten with the denizens of Melee Island, he
felt sure he could take on this Weaponmaster.
  Mousse moved from behind the counter, pausing to put a small sign on it
telling customers to ring the bell if they wanted service.  He glared at
Ranma as he did this; Ranma had rung the bell earlier, which had not put
Mousse in a good disposition.
  "You wait here, while I go ask her.  And don't touch anything!"  With that
warning, Mousse walked out the door.
  Ranma counted slowly to ten, then followed him.

  --**************--

  Halfway down the road, Ranma stealthily caught up with the storekeeper, and
planned to stay behind him until Mousse unwittingly showed him the way to the
mysterious Weaponmaster.  Unfortunately, he hadn't counted on the Men of Low
Moral Fibre.
  "Hey, going to see the Weaponmaster are you?" shouted Daisuke as he caught
the two of them together.
  "Yeah," they replied simultaneously.  Ranma bit his tongue as Mousse
started looking around for whomever was behind him.
  "Who was that?" asked Mousse as he searched suspiciously for the source of
the unknown voice.  Ranma was just about ready to kick himself, and was
silently wishing for a ceiling he could jump and cling to.
  Hiroshi and Daisuke, seeing Ranma's problem, looked at each other, smiled
in silent agreement, and turned back to Mousse.
  "It was Ranma."  "It was the rat."
  They started, looked at each other in confusion, nodded again in silent
agreement, and turned back once more to Mousse.
  "It was the rat."  "It was Ranma."
  They both blinked as again they simultaneously gave different answers.
Hiroshi waved Daisuke to keep quiet as he tried to mend things.
  "Um," he said, "it was our rat, Ranma.  We're training him for the circus
we're making.  I mean, parrots can talk, so why not rats, we thought."
  Mousse looked at them (or more specifically, three feet to the left of
them,) skeptically.  Then he shrugged.  "Yeah, well, good luck to you.  Like
you're gonna get anywhere," he added grumpily.  With that, he turned and
continued following the only path he knew better than the back of his hand:
the one that led to the Weaponmaster.
  Before following him, Ranma turned to the Men of Low Moral Fibre.  "The
rat, _Ranma_?" he asked questioningly.
  "Hey, don't knock it," Hiroshi replied.  "We've been trying to think of a
name for the rat for ages now."
  "Then again," chipped in Daisuke, "you're probably right.  Ranma is a
pretty stupid name, isn't it.  We'll think of something else."
  Ranma stuttered as he tried to think how to reply to that.
  "Um, how about Mihoshi?" offered Hiroshi, now completely involved in this
new topic.
  "Nah, no good.  What about Charlotte?"
  Hiroshi looked at Daisuke like he'd grown horns and a tail.  Or at least as
if he'd suddenly morphed into an airhead in a dress.  "No," he said
carefully, "I don't think that one's very suitable.  Um, what about...
Splinter?"
  "For a rat!  That's too stupid for words, Hiroshi.  How about..."
  Growing bored of this conversation, Ranma belatedly realised he was close
to losing Mousse.  With a pained glance back to the two former pirates, he
set off on the trail.  With luck, one of the three trials would be out of the
way soon.  Leaving just two more to go.

=============================================================================

             A   T E R E N C E   F E R G U S S O N   F A N F I C

=============================================================================

  Despite his rather disasterous attempts at getting a crew together, Ranma
was not deterred.  He knew there was one last place he hadn't tried yet; a
house on an isle just off the main coastline of Melee Island....

  Ranma stood upon the shore, looking across the twelve yard stretch of water
that stood between him and the mysterious house.  A neon sign a few feet to
his left pointed directly at the house, proudly displaying the words "Visit
fabulous Hook Isle : Restrooms : Souvenirs".  Ranma took the time to read it,
and then again just to make sure it said what he thought it said.
  Wondering if this was exactly the kind of place he thought he might find a
crew, Ranma started to search for a way across.  His eyes fell upon the long
line of wire that stretched across the water, attached on each side to a
sturdy platform.
  He took another look around, and then checked what he had on him.  A plan
started to form in his mind.

  --**************--

  Ranma marched up to the door of the self-proclaimed tourist site, and
knocked.  While he waited for an answer, he tried to imagine who the owner of
the house could be.  Obviously some sort of recluse judging by the difficulty
in getting here.  Or perhaps it was a guy with too many enemies, and the way
across had been made difficult just to keep them at bay.  Either way, it was
obvious that the owner didn't like visitors, even if the sign did say
otherwise.
  The sound of bolts being drawn back brought Ranma to attention.  The door
opened slightly, and a well-built bespectacled man wearing a bandanna on top
of his bald head.  "What do you wan..." he started gruffly, before his eyes
fully took in Ranma's face.
  Ranma himself was also stricken by the shock that affected the man.  He
looked him over, scarcely believing his eyes.
  "R-Ranma?" asked the man, almost incredulously.
  "Pop?" asked Ranma, equally incredulously.
  The door slammed shut in Ranma's face, but it succumbed to his snap kick
moments later.  He ran inside to catch his father already trying to flee out
of the second storey window.  "Pop!  Get down here!" he shouted.  Shamefaced,
Genma Saotome descended to face his son.

  "Okay, Pop, you've got about one minute to explain.  Starting now."
  "Um, what do you want me to explain?" Genma replied, trying to delay the
inevitable.
  "Why you left me behind, of course!" stated Ranma angrily.
  "Um, ah, er, how did you get over here anyway?" said Genma, trying to
change the subject.
  Ranma met him with an icy stare, but Genma was not deterred.  "Oh, lemme
guess," he said.  "It was one of those rubber chickens with a pulley in the
middle, wasn't it.  I always said that one of these days I'd have to pull
down that wire, but I never got around to it.  Damn those rubber chickens!  I
suppose that's how you got across, isn't it."
  Ranma hesitated, stunned.  "Um, no, actually I took the back way.  There's
a footbridge about five hundred yards north of the platform."
  "Oh," said Genma, nonplussed.  "That was, er, that was going to be my
second guess.  Right."
  Ranma's expression hardened.  "No more stalling, Pop.  Explanations, now."
  For a brief moment, Genma slumped in resignation.  But then, a light
gleamed in his eye as an idea occured to him.  "Not unless you prove
yourself, boy."
  "What?!"
  "Just what I said.  Walk this way."
  Genma led a suspicious Ranma to a large wooden door set in the wall of rock
that made up the back of the house.  "There's something in here I want to
show you, boy.  Something horrible," he started, trying not to smile.
  "Something so horrible," he continued, playing it to the hilt, "that I stay
awake at night just thinking about it...  But I don't mean to scare you."
  Ranma just looked bored.
  "I'm sure you'll have no problem facing this monster, boy," Genma said,
glancing at the novice pirate.  "After all, it's much smaller than the beast
I faced so many years ago."  With that tantalising remark, Genma pulled a
lever which lifted the wooden door away, revealing a large safe just a little
bit smaller than the door that had concealed it.
  There was a slight pause as Genma tried to increase the dramatic tension.
Unforunately, it was spoiled by Ranma's yawn.
  "Let's just hope you're quicker than I was," Genma told his son as he spun
the safe handle, opening it up to reveal a slightly smaller razor gate.
  "Oh, I just remembered something," he continued, walking over to a long
pull cord attached to the ceiling.  "I never did get around to feeding him
this week.  Silly me."
  Ranma agreed wholeheartedly with the last remark.
  Genma pulled the cord, allowing the razor gate to open to reveal a wooden
door, similar to the first one, except that it was only a foot square.  "I'll
let you open this last door yourself," he said to Ranma.  "Just let me get
out of your way."  He fought hard to hide a smirk.
  "Hey Pop.  Wait up," Ranma said as his father fled for the safety of the
upper floor.
  "Getting cold feet?" Genma asked tactfully.
  Ranma rolled his eyes.  "Of course not!  Just what's the point of this
challenge?"
  "Oh, I thought I mentioned.  You're supposed to open that little door, and,
if you're brave enough..."
  "Yes?"
  "...touch the beast inside."
  There was another pause.
  "Is that all?!" Ranma asked incredulously.
  "Yes," replied his father, this time keeping a straight face.  He reached
the top of the ladder and took his position.  "Okay.  Go ahead, if you've got
the guts."  He snickered to himself.
  Ranma shook his head in exasperation and approached the door.  Stupid
father.  What was the point of going through all this?  Ranma took hold of
the handle and threw open the door.
  He gazed inside.  The beast gazed back.  And then it hissed.

  --**************--

  A wet Ranma crawled out on the other side of the channel, back on Melee
Island.  Where Pop had found such a monster, Ranma could only guess.  Cold,
unreasoning fear had sent him fleeing for his life, forsaking the safety of
the footbridge and plunging into the water instead.
  He had half a mind to go back over to Hook Isle and drag out the
explanation he wanted from his father.  He deserved as much.  But Ranma
slowly realised that Akane was more important right now.  Who knew what the
Ghost Pirate Kuno was doing to her at this minute?
  Hell, even though he had no crew at all, he would man that ship all by
himself and track down the Ghost Pirate Kuno and rescue Akane.  He thought.
The details of that plan had yet to be decided on.
  But, it was _a_ plan, so with that, Ranma headed back for the dock.

  --**************--

  Genma watched as the figure turned and retreated into the depths of the
main island of Melee.  Then, ever so carefully, he descended into the main
living space and made his way to the larder.  Retrieving a small bowl and a
tin of food, he emptied the food into the bowl and placed it on the floor.
  The black beast leapt from its confinement, hungrily devouring the chunks
of meat.  As it did so, Genma simply smiled with amusement and petted it.  It
purred with contentment.
  Genma looked once more into his larder, and noticed with horror that it was
empty.  All that had been in there was that last tin of cat food.  Now where
was he going to get food?
  And then his thoughts turned to Ranma....

=============================================================================

             S T A R R I N G   R A N M A   S A O T O M E

=============================================================================

  Governor Akane Tendo carefully guided her small boat into the bay of the
unmarked island, beaching it onto the shore that rapidly degenerated into
untamed jungle.  Wasting no time, she collected her equipment from the back
of the skiff, and headed inland, her destination firmly in mind.
  It wasn't long before she came across a large clearing, deep in the centre
of the isle.  However, it was immediately apparent that someone had gotten
here before her.
  Where once a large X should have been marked, was instead a huge crater.
About a foot below the sodden earth, the protective layer of concrete had
been blasted open, revealing the now twisted steel bars that, in theory, were
supposed to have strengthened it.
  Hanging from one of the steel bars was a crowbar, which had been attached
to a rope.  Akane knelt down for a closer look, and shook her head in
exasperation when she saw what was attached to the bottom of the rope.
  She unshouldered her own piece of rope and tied it securely to a nearby
tree trunk, before throwing the rest of it into the pit.  Then, carefully,
she let herself down into the abyss.
  Hanging from her own piece of rope, she looked back across at the other
side.  "You do turn up in the strangest of places, don't you," she remarked
to the initial occupant of the pit.
  "Ah.  Hi, Akane," said the red-haired young woman who was hanging from the
makeshift grappling hook.  Her attire wasn't quite right; everything she wore
seemed at least one size too big for her, and whatever she had been wearing
on her feet had appeared to had fallen off, lost in the depths of the pit.
  Her position was also rather precarious, since she was holding on to her
bit of rope with only one hand.  The other was busy holding on to a large
chest that was almost as big as she was.  It was obvious that she was having
a great deal of trouble trying to get out of the pit with her burden, and
equally obvious that she wasn't about to let go of the chest if she could
help it.  Akane looked down to where the floor should have been.  In its
place was a large hole that descended into darkness.  /This is going to be a
good one, I can tell,/ she thought.
  "What on Earth are you doing here?" Akane demanded of the red-head.
  "Um, well, it's kind of a long story, y'know," the woman replied, obviously
uncomfortable with the thought of having to relate it while still hanging
above a bottomless pit.
  "I've got time," said Akane, completely unsympathetically.
  The woman sighed, and seemed to reach a decision.  "Alright, you win."
Muttering something about "tomboys" under her breath, she began her story.

  "I guess it started back on Scabb Island.  I was sitting around this
campfire with a bunch of pirates, and they'd pushed me into telling them
again 'bout the time I got rid of the Ghost Pirate Kuno...

=============================================================================

        I N   Y E T   A N O T H E R   W A C K Y   A D V E N T U R E    

=============================================================================

  It wasn't going to be easy, as Ranma dwelt on the tasks ahead.  It
seemed that even to become a pirate, he already needed a source of
income.  For how else would he be able to afford a sword, training,
treasure maps, digging equipment and so forth?
  Wandering the isle, Ranma kept on the lookout for money-making
oppurtunities.  And it was then that he noticed the large colourful
tent.

  Approaching the gigantic tent, he noticed a poster tacked on to the
side.  Nothing much, just a plain message saying "Help wanted.  Please
enquire within."  And so he did.
  It wasn't what he'd expected though.

  It was indeed a large tent.  A big top in fact.  Ranma recognised
all the hallmarks of a circus; he'd even performed in one once.  For
food and lodgings of course.  Life had been difficult back then.  But
soon all that would change.
  As he entered, he became aware of a heated argument near the back of
the tent.  One of them was a young girl in a pink leotard, with light
brown hair adorning her cute face.  The other was a tall dark-haired
lad who stood proud, looking like a film star and knowing it too.
Ranma got close enough to finally make out the words.
  "I'd get in the cannon, but the gunpowder makes Azusa sneeze,"
whined the girl.
  "Well, I can't do it, I hurt my hand taming the lions last week,"
replied the young man.
  "But it's just a little scratch, not like Azusa's allergy.  You get
in the cannon."
  "You don't have any allergies!  YOU get in the cannon."
  "No, YOU get in the cannon!"
  "No, YOU get in the cannon!"
  "Slacker!"
  "Loser!"
  "Ruffian!"
  "Fop!"
  "Weasel!"
  "Weevil!"
  Ranma felt that it had gone on for long enough.  He coughed
politely, and then continued in a sarcastic tone of voice.  "Hey,
there's a sign outside asking for help.  I was wondering if...."
  He never got any further as the two of them were at his side before
he could blink.  The wheeled skates on their boots might have
explained it.  But, before he could make any sort of comment on it,
the two artists started their patter.
  "Say there, how'd you like a chance--" started the dark-haired boy.
  "--A once in a lifetime chance--" followed up the girl, cheerfully.
  "--To perform an amazing feat--"
  "--A death-defying feat--"
  "--Well, not so death-defying, really--" the boy said, a little
nervously.
  "--A dangerous feat--"
  "--No, not dangerous at all--" amended the lad, even more
nervously.
  "--An easy feat--" said the girl in obvious frustration.
  "--But exciting!--"
  "--With the Amazing--"
  "--Adventurous, Acrobatic--"
  "--And Exceedingly Well-Known--"
  "--Fabulous, Flying--"
  "--Golden Pair!"
  "That's us," said the young man.
  "My partner Mikado...."
  "...and my partner Azusa."
  "Sound good?" asked Azusa.
  "Good," confirmed Mikado.  During all this time, Ranma hadn't had a
chance to make himself heard.  And it continued that way as the
Golden Pair continued.    
  "It's very simple really," said Azusa.
  "See that cannon over there?"
  Ranma looked over at a large colourful cannon at the other end of
the tent.  It was pointing vaguely towards a soft pile of hay that
was situated just next to the central tent support.  He turned back
to Mikado and motioned him to continue.
  "All you have to do--" Mikado indeed continued.
  "--Is get in the cannon--" cheered Azusa.
  "--And we'll shoot you out of it--"
  "--Across the room--"
  "--Quite safe, actually--" Mikado asserted.
  "--So, what do you say?"
  Ranma hesitated.  But if there was one thing he learnt from his
life on the road, it was that the more dangerous the task you're
asked to undertake, the more money (or food, in Ranma's case) you
actually got for it.
  "How much will you pay me?" asked Ranma, relieved to actually get
a word in edgeways.
  Azusa ummed and ahhed for a few seconds before replying.  "How
about 478 pieces of eight?"
  Ranma considered this for a moment.  Then he realised that any
amount of money would be a start considering he was broke.  "OK," he
ventured, "sounds good."
  "Have you got a helmet?" asked Mikado.
  That caught Ranma out.  "Er... no, I don't.  Will I need one?"
  Azusa seemed disappointed.  "No helmet?"
  "Oh, you've got to have a helmet--" said Mikado, nodding.
  "--Can't do the cannon trick without a helmet--" affirmed Azusa.
  "--Nosiree!"  Mikado patted the wannabe-pirate on the back.  "Go get
a helmet, and then we can do the trick."  The Golden Pair started to
skate away, and Ranma could feel the oppurtunity slipping away.
  "Um, hang on a sec!"  Ranma rummaged through his belongings and
retrieved the saucepot he had `borrowed' from the Scumm Bar.  "What
about this?"
  "Michelle!  Michelle!"  Azusa moved faster than light and snatched
the pot out of his hands.  Mikado reacted equally quickly, retrieving
the pot and holding it out of her reach.  "Ah, that will work as a
helmet!" he said.
  Azusa looked less than pleased.  "Give it back!  Give it back!" she
cried as she started bashing Mikado over the head with a bowling pin.
  "Now we can do the trick--" Mikado said, ignoring Azusa.
  "--Give it back!  Give it back!--" cried the spoilt girl, swapping
her bowling pin for a lion stand.
  "--If you'd step over her--" continued Mikado, _trying_ to ignore
Azusa.
  "--Give it back!  Give it back!--" Azusa cried, exchanging her
lion stand for the cannon in question.
  "Ugh," said Mikado, failing to ignore Azusa this time.  Placing the
cannon back in its original position, Azusa retrieved her `Michelle'
and started cuddling it.
  "Excuse me a moment," Mikado told Ranma as he got shakily to his
feet.  Flourishing a bright red handkerchief, Mikado threw it into
the air.
  "Paulette!  Paulette!" cried the momentarily distracted girl.
Mikado, with expert agility, grabbed the pot as it hung for a moment
in midair, forgotten.  He handed it to Ranma.
  Azusa came back after a short while, having caught the
handkerchief.  She diligently took her place on the other side of the
cannon, while Mikado stood by the fuse.
  Mikado turned to Ranma.  "Now put on your helmet--"
  "--and get in the cannon--" Azusa, back to normal, said.
  "--and we'll take care of the rest."
  Ranma looked into the gaping mouth of the cannon.  It seemed safe
enough.  Besides, hadn't Pop gotten him into crazier stuff than this?
And pieces of eight _were_ pieces of eight....
  He put on the helmet, and got in the cannon.


                          **** BOOOOOOOM ****


  "It works!" cried an astonished Azusa.
  "I'm so relieved!" said Mikado.
  Azusa looked over at where Ranma had landed.  "Hey...," she started.
  "Are you OK?" Mikado finished.
  Ranma hadn't quite landed in the hay.  In fact, the trajectory of
his flight had ended with a faceplant in the middle of the support
beam.  Ranma lay, unmoving, upside-down, right against the centre
post.
  Azusa skated over to him and started shaking him.  "Please get up,
please get up, please get up," she chanted in an annoying way.
  Ranma groggily opened his eyes.  Admittedly, he was still a bit out
of it - his eyes couldn't agree what to focus on, and were rolling in
different directions - but he seemed all right.
  "I'm Bobbin," he said.  "Are you my mother?"
  "He's all right!" Mikado cried, having made his way over.
  "Hooray!  Azusa is spared an embarassing and financially
debilitating lawsuit!"
  Mikado handed a small pouch to an unresisting Ranma.  "Here's your
money," he said.  "Just recompense for aiding us," he explained.  He
glanced over at the cannon, and followed Ranma's trajectory with his
eyes.  "We just need to change the aim a bit," he concluded.
  "I'll try it next!" announced Azusa excitedly.
  "No, I'LL do it next!" Mikado said, not wanting to be outdone.
  "No, me!" argued Azusa.
  "No, ME!" yelled Mikado.
  "Slacker!"
  "Loser!"
  "Ruffian!"
  "Fop!"

  Ranma staggered out of the big top, leaving the Golden Pair to their
arguing.  478 pieces of eight richer.  He wondered if it was worth the
headache though.
  But now, it was time for spending.  And that meant going right back
into town.

=============================================================================

                   W E   P R O U D L Y   P R E S E N T

=============================================================================

  Ranma had barely touched upon the wooden planks of the dock when he was
accosted by Nabiki.
  "Hey!  It's a good thing you showed up," she said, easily crossing whatever
space there had been between them.  "Ten people have offered to buy this baby
off me while I've been standing here waiting for you."
  Ranma stole a glance at the `baby'.  Admittedly, it was an impressive ship.
That is, it was impressive it was still afloat.  Some time ago, this ship
might have been the pride of a fleet.  Some time in the Bronze age, judging
by the scars.
  Nabiki continued her spiel without making a show of noticing.  "But I said,
`NO WAY.  I know a guy who's in love with this ship, and it would break his
heart to lose it.'"
  She smiled.  "Am I right?"
  Ranma hesitated.  Giving Nabiki just the gap she needed.  "Of course I am,"
she continued, smoothly cutting off any second thoughts that were passing
between Ranma's mind and his mouth.  "I mean, just look at her!"
  An arm around his back turned him to face his recently acquired purchase.
Nabiki continued her patter, seemingly unaware that the sale had already been
made.  "Sleek," she said, extolling what few virtues it had, "aerodynamic...
...a buoyant, barnacle-covered beauty."
  In reality, it was a ship.  It floated.  The sign over Nabiki's office said
`Nabiki's Previously Owned Vessels'.  Even excluding the `as is' clause,
there was no way Nabiki could be touched for any of her transactions; even
with something like this.
  However, at that moment, a shooting star arced across the heavens, casting
an ethereal light over the vessel in the harbour.  It shone under the glow,
shedding what mediocrity or downright shabbiness it had, and instead radiated
a beauty that few ships would ever attain.  Even Nabiki was impressed by this
short display.
  "I think we're having a real moment here," she said, eyes shining.  The
sale was as good as done.  There was no way the fool was going to back off
now.  Not after that...  She paused, the display sparking an unfamiliar
thought.
  "I've changed my mind," she snapped.  Ranma spun to face her, incredulous.
"I can't give her up.  You can have your money back."
  She ignored the pleading looks that Ranma was giving her.  For Ranma's
part, it wasn't the ship itself he was worrying about.  It had been the
cheapest he could afford, even after stripping away all the extras, and
skillfully bargaining Nabiki (or so he thought) down to an amount that was
within his price range.  And he needed a ship, badly.  It was the only way to
get to Monkey Island, where Akane had been taken.  Not that he was in love
with her, or worried about her, oh no.  That was an absurd thought.  It was
just, well... a matter of honour.  That was it.  It was a matter of honour.
The Ghost Pirate Kuno had laid down a letter of challange to all the pirates
of Melee Island.  And after passing the three trials, Ranma was now a fully
fledged pirate.  Well, there was that little matter of the initiating with
the grog, but that was just details.  Besides, all the other pirates were
either too scared to attempt a rescue, or too busy looting the mansion with
the Governor gone.
  But all that was besides the point.  He needed a ship, and having Nabiki
default on him was just not something he wanted to deal with.  He opened his
mouth to say something along those lines to her.
  "How could I sell something so dear?" said Nabiki, once again artfully
cutting off Ranma in his attempts to make himself heard.  She looked over the
bay, gazing on the ship as it lay there, still basking in the magical light.
Ranma sighed and joined her in taking in its newfound beauty.

  There was an onimous crack as the foremast broke at the base, and toppled
not quite so majestically into the water.

  "Then again, a deal's a deal, right?" said Nabiki quickly, cutting off
Ranma for a third time.
  "Right.  Catch you later.  Good luck.  Enjoy.  I'm outta here," she reeled
off, pumping Ranma's hand, and quickly making her getaway before anything
about quality assurance could be mentioned.  Not that Nabiki didn't have
covers there, but that would be far too time consuming.
  The dock was empty, except Ranma and his ship.  He drew a breath, a comment
that summed his whole situation up coming to mind, ready to be said...
  "Whoops!"  Ranma almost jumped as Nabiki performed her reappearing trick
again.  All smiles, she dug at a pocket at random and pulled out a few scraps
of paper.  They turned out to be pamphlets.
  "I almost forgot to give you this free..." - she hesitated for a moment,
glancing at the titles - "...seafaring literature."  She forced them into
Ranma's hands, who was not in the best condition to resist.  "My gift to you.
Just remember where you got it."
  "NABIKI'S!!!" she cried, her face inches from Ranma's, with a smile on her
face that would have made a certain Cheshire cat jealous had he even existed
in this reality.
  And with that last gesture, she stalked off, leaving Ranma to recover from
his experience.
  He looked out back over the bay, to the still-floating near-wreck that he
now owned.
  It was funny, but now there was no one to interrupt him, he couldn't think
of a word to say.
  Now all he needed was a crew.  All three of them.

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          T H E   C U R S E   O F   M O N K E Y   I S L A N D
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                             Terence Fergusson
                          -- Student of Advanced Murphodynamics
                          -- Stranded in an Anime-free College