VIII. Winn & Tawny's Big Adventure.

“I wish whe nevair touched thosé shtupid idols…” Winn pouted as she and Tawny walked down the streets of Saint Khan’s.

“I thought you were always down for some extra padding?” Tawny asked.

“In certain placés, not all ovair!” Winn cried.

“Hey, c’mon, now! I’m sure you can still kick ass and do your seductress schtick like this,” Tawny said as she jiggled Winn’s stomach.  

“No, I can’t,” Winn whimpered.

“Well, I think so. And besides, we could’ve ended up like Sawyer Cain or something! Compared to being a walking talking corpse, having a cursed gut isn’t that bad.”

The skunk looked down at herself“But what if it’s permanent…?” 

“Then we’ll just have to live with it. Not much more we could do.”

Having reached the end of the docks, both of them collapsed onto a bench to catch their breath. They were on shore leave at the moment, their ships were to be temporarily captained by their first mates.

The skunk sighed, leaning to one side and pinching her leotard. “Ugh! My clothes are diggeng into all of these parts I névair had befair!”

Winn and Tawny stood outside of a medium’s shop.

“I don't think she’s here…” Winn noticed. As soon as she said that, however, the shop’s door opened, revealing The Madame. She had the gauntness of a stray cat who sucked at hunting and one of her eyelids drooped halfway down.

“Come in, come in…” she beckoned, sounding like a siren that took smoke breaks between eating sailors. The pirates hesitantly followed.

“Sit, sit…” she said. The shop had an irresponsible amount of candles lit—no matter where you looked, you would always see droplets of leftover wax. In the center of the room, a crystal ball sat on a round table. 

Behind a curtain, the Madame was huffing… something. Winn and Tawny scrunched as a foul stench permeated the air. She finally joined the pirates at the table after a bit of time, hacking something up.

“Tawny DeLancie… Winn Valentine…” she began.

“How do you know our names?” Tawny asked. 

“Magic, obviously,” Winn rolled her eyes. 

“You are mistaken, my fetid friend,” said The Madame. “We regular the same bar. You both become… quite loud when drunk. Her more than you,” she said, pointing from the jester to the skunk.

“Although, there’s something… different about you two.”

“We were… exposed to some ancient fertility idols and they kinda made us go—bwoomph,“ Tawny explained. “We were hoping you could… un-bwoomph us. It’s kinda hard to do our jobs like this.”

The medium leaned back in her chair. “I can offer you two a solution. But first I’d need twenty doubloons. Up front.”

Tawny and Winn looked at each other. None of them reached for their pockets. They just stared at each other.

“75%-25%,” Winn suggested. 

Tawny agreed. 

Winn flashed a twisted grin as she quickly reached in between her chest and pulled out five doubloons, slamming them down onto the table—the 25%.

“Godsdammit!” Tawny sighed. She pulled out a pouch and shook out fifteen coins, mouthing an expletive towards Winn with a smile. In turn, Winn scratched her nose with her middle finger.

“Now,” said The Madame, “I require these idols.”

Tawny’s smile vanished. “Would you… know where they are…?” 

One of The Madame’s eyebrows raised. “They’re not here?”

“Why would we keep zem!? Look what zey did to my arms!” Winn yelled, holding them up for the medium to see. 

“Where was the last place you saw them?” 

“Floating in the water… whenever we dumped them overboard…” Tawny answered, nervously poking her fingers together. 

The medium pinched the bridge of her nose.

“Look what they did!” Tawny defended.

“My arms!” Winn reiterated, holding them up again.

“I must refer to my external sources…” the medium exhaled, awakening her crystal ball. A black cloud began to circle inside. Visions of spirals, doorways, and blinking eyes began to float inside.

“Hmm…” she muttered. “The location of these idols revealed itself rather quickly. That means it is close—very close.” 

She looked down into the ball once again. “They’re at The Beheaded Navyman, next to a… Jonah? No, wait, Jones.”

The medium paused for a second, and then looked up at them. “A Davy Jones.”

Entering The Beheaded Navyman, Winn waltzed up to the counter and sexily cocked a shoulder.

“Excusé moi, but do you know whaire we could find one Davy Jones?” she asked the bartender.

“Yep,” he said without looking up, “just walk out onto the docks and, once you’ve reached the end, keep goin’. You should see him in no time.” 

Winn’s face soured. “A patron named Davy Jones, you lavette!”

“How the hell should I know? Order somethin’ or stop wasting my time!” 

“Finé! I’ll have a glass of your best wine.” 

“We’ve got rum and we’ve got grog.”

“Ugh… rum, zhén.” 

“That’ll be a piece of eight. And I’m assuming Mix-Match here’s gettin’ the same?” 

Tawny shrugged. “What the hell, I’m not looking out for my figure anymore—sure.”

Winn’s attention was drawn upward. “Hey, what happened to ze head,” she asked the bartender, pointing to a cage hanging from the ceiling. Inside of it was another decapitated zombie.

“Some bastard took ol’ Sherman and just ol’ Sherman…” the bartender said with a solemn face. “Didn’t even so much as look at the moneybox.”

He sighed. “This here is the new guy, Cooper. Someone found him not too long ago. For whatever reason, zombies have just been poppin’ up a lot more recently…” 

Tawny and Winn looked at each other, knowing exactly why.

The skunk and the jester sat at a booth. It was in the middle of the tavern, which would give them the best view of everyone inside. 

“Just look for anyone who might name heemself aftair Davy Jones—y’know, tough lookeng guys. Zumeone who—”

“Excuse me,” asked a voice.

Tawny held up a finger without looking at her interrupter. “Excusez-moi, I was talkeng—zumone who’s tryeng to do a Blackbeard theng where ze namé alone eez supposed to be scary,—”

“Winn—” Tawny whimpered.

“—and zey build an image—”

“WINN!” Tawny cried.

“Oh my gods!” Winn yelled, “Can I PLEASE speak?” 

“I should probably let him, first...” the jester said while shakily gesturing to her right.

Winn looked to her left, and her tail shot up in horror. Floating next to their table was a ghost. He was made up of black, goopy vapors, like spilled ink caught in the wind. He was never a solid shape, his form forever runny and dripping. His eyes were sunken, and they looked more realistic than anything Tawny or Winn had ever seen before. His hair defied gravity as his dreadlocks floated in the air.

“You two were looking for me?” the figure asked in a voice that sounded like he was simultaneously old, far away, drowning, and at the same time, their own conscience. 

“Davy Jones…?” Winn squeaked.

“Yeah. But don’t ask me to guide anyone to the afterlife—I’m on shore leave at the moment.”

“Mr. Jones?” asked Tawny.

“Davy,” he corrected.

“Davy, what do you mean by ‘shore leave,’ exactly…? I thought your fate for all eternity was ferrying fallen sailors from this world to the next.” 

“Fate? It’s just my job. You two mind if I sit?”

Winn and Tawny both shook their heads. The ghost pulled up a chest—the chest—and sat down. So far, nobody else in the tavern had noticed his presence.

“It’s just… I used to take great pride in my work, but recently, I haven’t.”

“And why eez zat?” asked Winn. 

“This sudden… rise of the undead. Nobody is fully deceased nowadays… ” 

“Sorry to hear that…” Tawny said in an attempt to be comforting. Suddenly, she got an idea.

“Do you… know what always cheers me up?” Winn asked. “Doeng a good deed!” 

Tawny’s eyes widened, realizing what the skunk was getting to. She signaled to cut it out by waving a flat hand across her neck, but to no avail.

“Evén though I’m a pirate, helping out someone een need always makes me feel bettair abut mysélf. Speakeng of, Tawny and I find ourselvés een a prédicamont at ze moment...”

The jester held her face in her hands and groaned.

Davy Jones squinted his eyes and leaned close to Winn. “Cut to the chase, skunk. I’m not in the mood to deal with your oral tiptoeing.” 

Winn gulped and tried to cock herself in an alluring manner again. “Could we please have the idols you've found,” she asked in a meek tone.  

“After that? No.” 

Tawny slapped Winn in the back of the head.

“But… maybe we can make a wager. If one of you two can beat me in… let’s do… poker, then I’ll give you the idols back.” 

“And what if we lose?” Tawny asked. 

Davy thought about it. “Then half of your respective crews will be mine.” 

“That’s eet? Oh, thank zé gods…” Winn sighed with relief. She knew which mates she wouldn’t mind losing.

“...and I’ll toss the idols right back where I found them.”

Winn leaned down onto the table. “Screw zé gods…”

Goop sloshed from Davy Jones and formed a 50-card deck. “We will each receive eight pieces of eight. Whoever ends up with all twenty-four pieces is the winner…” Davy explained as he distributed eight coins and two cards each to the skunk, the jester, and himself.

Winn sighed and looked at her hand—an ace of clubs and a 10 of hearts.

“I bet… one piece…” she said as she tossed a coin into the middle. Davy and Tawny called—Davy nonchalantly, Tawny hesitantly. 

The ghost flipped three of the community cards—a jack of clubs, a queen of clubs, and a 10 of hearts. Winn inhaled, trying not to give away her hand. 

“I’ll raise… three coins,” she said.

“Aaand I’m out…” Tawny said, shaking her head as she dropped her cards onto the table. 

“....what are you doing…?” the skunk whispered through gnashing teeth. 

“...what are you doing? Why are you guns-a-blazin’ already?” the jester shot back.

“Check,” Davy smiled before flipping the next card—a 6 of hearts.

Davy looked at his hand. “I raise two pieces,” he said without looking up.

“Call…” Winn said. His unwillingness to make eye contact was giving her hope.

Davy flipped over the next card—a queen of clubs. 

“I raise again,” said Winn. She smiled as she pushed her coins into the middle, “All een.”

Tawny stared at her bug-eyed and twitching.

“I’ll call…” Davy smiled, dropping his remaining coins onto the table. He did it slowly, making sure that there was a pregnant pause between each clink.

Winn flipped over her cards—a straight. Davy flipped over his. Two kings—a full house.

“That’s not fair,” she yelled. “He’s definitely using some sort of supernatural bullshit!”

“Nobody likes a sore loser…” Davy smiled as he assimilated his newfound coins into his pile of eight.

Winn turned to Tawny and pointed an accusatory finger.. “And you’re not helping, you quitter!” 

“I had a 4 of diamonds and a 9 of clubs—I couldn’t have done jack shit,” Tawny retaliated. “And besides, if I went whole-hog like you, we both would’ve been spit-roasted! Now, If you’ll excuse me, I gotta bring home the bacon now…”

Winn watched from the side as another round started—one without her.

After a single round, Tawny folded—a 9 of clubs and a 9 of diamonds with a community pool of a king of hearts, a 7 of diamonds, and a 4 of clubs.

“Quit quitting!” Winn screamed.

“Zip it, you oxymoron,” Tawny yelled.

Davy flipped over the remaining cards—a 6 of diamonds and a 3 of spades. He revealed his hand—a jack of spades and a 7 of nines. 

“You oughta listen to her,” he smiled.

Round three: a three of a kind versus a two pair—five coins left.

Things looked bright for the pirates when Tawny lucked out with a four of a kind, winning four coins back. However, the feeling was short-lived, as she was forced to fold the next round. 

Winn watched with horror as Tawny’s stack gradually dwindled. Within an hour, she was down to her last coin. 

Tawny looked at her hand. A 4 of spades and a 3 of clubs. “I bet one piece.”

“I think I can check…” Davy said as he looked to his pile of twenty-three. He turned over the three community cards—a 5 of hearts, a 10 of clubs, and an ace of clubs. 

With an evil grin, Davy almost flipped the next card. However, a skeletal hand grabbed his wrist halfway through.

“You’re needed,” a figure cloaked in crimson croaked. It sounded like an elderly person who lived off of pipeweed and seawater. 

“I’m on shore leave,” Davy replied in a firm voice.

“It’s an emergency.” 

“Shore leave.”

The crimson ghost grabbed the card out of Davy’s hand and lit it on fire. “Sawyer Cain’s at it again. We need all the hands we can get tallying...” 

Without another word, she floated away from the table, taking a particularly pale, stiff patron away with her.

Davy looked at the pirates. “I must go.” 

“So you forfeit,” Tawny declared.

“No, I do not forfeit. I have to go now.” 

“Sounds like zumone's quitteng…” Winn cooed.

“He doesn’t even wanna admit defeat!” Tawny teased.

Davy’s chest puffed up. His dreadlocks tensed with anger, sticking straight in every direction. He levitated the chest and recklessly slammed it down onto the table.

“I hope to see you two again soon,” he growled before storming off.

Winn and Tawny looked inside of it. There they were—the idols in their zaftig glory.

“I nevair thought I would be so relieved to see zese deux bastards…” Winn smiled.

Tawny and Winn walked into The Madame’s shop.

“Hello? Madame…?” Tawny called out, fanning away smoke with a hand.

“One second,” the medium choked behind her curtain. The pirates sat down at the table with the chest in between them.

"Mes dieux, that stench...!" Winn covered her nose with her hand. 

“Looks like you’ve got competition…” the jester smiled.

“Shut up…” the skunk mumbled.

The medium came out from behind the curtains and sat down, her eyes very bloodshot. “I see you have something for me?” 

“Both of the idols, courtesy of Davy Jones,” Tawny said, patting the chest.

“Most impressive…” the Madame cooed. “Before we go any further, I require another fee.”

“Eight pieces and not a coin more,” Tawny put down.

“That will suffice…” the medium nodded.

Tawny handed her a small pouch. The medium slipped it into her robe and closed her eyes, mystically waving her hands.

“My sources tell me… that to reverse the curse of the idols… you need to…” 

The medium opened her eyes and looked up.

“...diet and exercise.” 

Tawny shot up from her chair and dove onto the table. “YOU PIECE OF—”

A few moments later, Tawny dragged the flailing, cursing Winn out of the shop. The jester held her grip until the skunk calmed down.

“I swear to the gods, I will burn that shop to the ground!” Winn yelled, straightening her beehive hair. 

“If that little pothead doesn’t beat you to it, first…” Tawny chuckled.

Winn looked at her. “How are you not pissed off right now?” 

“Well, now we know that it's not permanent! Plus, we already diet by living on hardtack, so we should be back to normal in no time!”

Tawny devilishly smiled. “And besides, I've already set my revenge plans in motion...”

She opened the trunk for Winn. Only one of the idols was inside.  

The medium locked her moneybox and blew out all her candles. She was about to leave the shop before her foot kicked something solid. “What the hell?” 

She tried to bend down to see whatever it was, but it was too dark for her to make out. She sighed, bent down and picked it up. She walked to the window and, with the moon’s glow, saw that it was a little stone statue of a fleshy figure.

“Aw, shit…”