The Wily Willies

[League]

This is the unbelievable, albeit true, story of The Inestimable League, and how he became a pirate. The unimaginable origin? A wee loco lad named Willy! It starts long ago, in a land and galaxy far, far away...

Chapter One

There once was a boy named Willy. Willy was a kind, friendly, hard-working, charming yound lad... some of the time. You see, Willy had a slight problem in the way his mind worked... to be exact, it didn't. He was quite crazy.

Since his mind didn't work as it should have, Willy borrowed others. Sound crazy? Sound impossible? It apparently is much of the first but not too much of the latter.

Anyway, Willy had a certain way of putting up airs with folks he knew, and he had a certain way of destroying those airs the very next time he'd meet those same people. The town of Whaddoowedoo didn't know what to do. They asked all the wisest people in town for a solution, from Old Man Jenkins to the gray and wise Sarah McBeuford to the Elder Willy... Willy? Anyway, they asked all the wise folk in the town as to what they should do with Willy. When no one of them had an answer, they decided to call together a town meeting.

At this town meeting, the mayor announced the problem, then asked the whole collective as to whether they had a solution or not. Few people knew what to do. Finally, one person spoke up:

"If this guy really is so crazy, he should be kicked outta here," he said in an accent years ahead of his time. "I dunno `bout this Billy, but he sounds mighty dangerous: I ain't thinkin of nuthin if I ain't thinkin bout them children. You know the old saying: a crazy story drives a whole forum crazy."
"Ah, well spoken, mystery man," said the mayor. "Now how do you suppose we kick him out?"
"I heard he likes peanuts," said a lady in the audience.
"Nah, he only likes peanuts a tenth of the time," corrected a man in the audience.
"Why, I don't care how many personalities this Billy has," said the man who had originally spoken. "Everybody likes sweet potato!"
"Genius!" said the mayor, who had a distinct love of the stuff himself. "We'll drive him out with sweet potato!"
"Well, I reckon we picked a fine time to do so!" said a lady in the crowd. "They're only a few pence on the pound!"
"My word!" said the mayor. "That's half the price it costs for a pound of regular potatoes! Who knew?"
The whole crowd murmured about this, talking at the fantastic pricing of the fantastic stuff. Everything said that needed to be said (and a little something more), the town returned to it's dwellings.

The next day, the town collected a Buy-Willy-Some-Sweet-Potato tax. Having gathered the funds, they paid Mrs. Alagonkie for the finished product: a huge bowl of the wondrous stuff by order of the local government. From there, they went to Willy, and told him they'd give him the bowl and all its wondrous contents if he'd leave and never come back. It was too good to refuse.

And so ended the first chapter of Willy's, or rather, The Willies', life(s).

More of this unbelievable, albeit true, tale to come later! From the fabulous creatures that make up Willy's crew, to their dark betrayal, to the kind old lady who cooks a mean Au Gratin... stay tuned!

Chapter Two

Willy ran fast. He had no idea if he had lost his pursuer... or if he was even being pursued. Still, he had heard what may have been human footsteps. You could never be too sure: not when carrying cargo this important. He pulled out the valuable treasure he carried, and opened the lid a little.

The sight and scent of sweet potatoes will do crazy things to a boy: they'll do even crazier things to a boy who is already crazy. Willy made one last run to shake his tail, as fast as he could, for as far as he could. When he could no longer run, he collapsed.

Willy decided that enough was enough: any follower would not get any of that delicious concoction. He took a small spoonful, and ate it. It was too good to resist: he then took as big a spoonful as he could, and shoved it into his mouth. At that moment, he realized his folly: the sweet potato... was dry. The town had sent him off without water--they had planned, he was sure, for him to die in the wilderness. He was doomed to die a most terrible death at a young age, and it had all been planned by a town that had raised him. Willy lay there in despair.

"Don't give up Willy," he said to himself. "We need you."
"I'm trapped here in the middle of the wilderness, with nothing to drink," he replied in a raspy voice. "I'm afraid that this is where the young flower wilts away."
"Willlllyyy! Willlllyyy! Willlllyyy! Will..." he screamed, as he lost consciousness trying to keep himself conscious.

They say that there a Willy died that day, and that there another Willy was born. The End.
..................................................

Just kidding.

Willy awoke to find his clothes soaked and hair wet. It was raining. He opened up his mouth, and let the water pour in. He also opened up the sweet potato dish, and allowed some water in.

Nature has had mercy on me where society hasn't, he decided. I don't think I like society very much. He then brought this up to the other Willies that had a say in this.
Agreed, they all said unanimously. For once, the Council of Willies all agreed in perfect unison. Let's become a pirate, one member said. A great idea! rang the council.

So the League of Willies went into the nearest city, under the guise of a captain looking for a crew. Willy gathered the fiercest, vilest, dirtiest, most cruel, most flee-ridden, most terrible dogs that ever pillaged the world and ruled the seas. Spike and Spook were fierce Dobermann Pinschers that would stand by Willy's side for purpose of intimidation. Biter was a terrible pit bull who'd do all the dirty work. Tuba and Sax were the two work-horses of the team, being Siberian Huskies. Chocolate was the accountant since he was the smartest of the team, being a black lab. Fluffy, Fluffle, Fluffmeister, and Mr. & Mrs. Fluffy were poodles that joined, being outcasts of society themselves. Goldie was a Golden Retriever who'd fetch a frisbie quite well. Pita was a strange mutt that'd never stay still--a favorite of Willy. Jack and Daniel were a pair of Italian Greyhounds. There were many other vile dogs in this crew: the allure of ravaging those who had assumed mastery over them was too much to resist.

Well, for the next 3 years, the name of Willy and his sea-dogs became the most feared name on the European coast. They pillaged towns, sank royal ships, sacked the countryside, and left poop in the middle of the street. However, under his command, the dogs were growing a little dissatisfied. Sure, they got most of the meat, but when the meat was all gone, it was Willy that got all the bones. They decided... to mutiny.

The night it was all going down, Willy was sleeping. He had no idea of what was about to happen--how could he? He didn't speak dog. Regardless, while he was sleeping, his first mate, the treacherous dog Treacherous, came in to make sure he was asleep, or so it is said. One of the Willies (while some slept, the others would keep watch) supposedly heard him come in, and awoke the whole League. The League asked him just what he was doing, according to the tales. Treacherous supposedly said nothing at first, and then, supposedly, asked Willy if he wanted a drink. Treacherous then gave Willy a drink that threw Willy into a subdued, half groggy, half asleep state.

In this state, Willy was unable to throw up a resistance. The dogs were unable to tie him up, as they didn't have thumbs, so they hired a monkey to do it for them. To add insult to injury, they supposedly took turns peeing on his leg. However, all that is beside the point. When he awoke, he found his ship, A Days Distance, a day's distance from a distant island. His crew was viciously barking at him. He couldn't understand what they were saying, but he knew enough pirate lore to know that he was being thrown a party.
"Why, I must say, that this whole thing has taken me rather by surprise," he stated. "And what have I done to so deserve this honor?" At that moment, one of his crew came forward with a pistol in its mouth.
"Oh, a present?" he said.

They say that when he was thrown off of his own ship, he still had no idea of what was going on. It wasn't until he'd been ten days on the island (the current having carried him in) that he said,
"By golly! I think I've been marooned!" He took the pistol, loaded with the customary shot, and aimed it at his head.

Then, he pulled the trigger, and the nothingness of nothingness pulled in.

Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, depending on how you look at it, the pistol was watterlogged.

More of this unbelievable, albeit true, tale to come later! Still to come: The mean old lady with the kind Au Gratin! Willy's fabulous escape! The return to society! A run-in with an old friend! Stay tuned!

Chapter Three

You might have thought that Willy would be might lonely trapped on an island by himself. But in all reality, himself was rather good company, when himself wouldn't steal all the good coconuts. Still, Willy was growing rather bored of the island. When he wasn't tending to his survival, he was in a hidden chamber in the middle of the island, drinking the days away. He decided that this was no way to live. So, in a strange sort of instinct that had never been seen in a man before, he journeyed mindlessly like a zombie into the middle of the ocean. And there, he waited...

Day upon day upon day he waited there. Years passed by. Soon, the local sea turtle population had become accustomed to him. Then, they became rather dependent on him. The hair in his arm pit would attract all sorts of food that would just nest there, an easy picking for the turtles. When he had their utter trust, it was then that he betrayed them.

He tied together 3 of the turtles with the hair off of his back. Such was the raft, the chariot, the fleetship, that he would ride back into society on. But he wouldn't.

Halfway along the journey, as he slept, drifting on the tireless waves, he was apprehended by the name that the brave fear even more than death... Davy Jones.

Still to come: the alright lady with the alright Au Gratin! the unknown friend from Willy's unknown past! the turning point (as if there weren't enough already) in Willy's life! the one even crazier than Willy! Stay tuned!

Chapter Four

"Tell me: do ye fear death pirate?" came the voice of Willy's capturer.
"Do ye fear my aim?" he countered, pulling out his pistol. "Let it be known, that I once shot an apple from 500 feet away from atop a lovely lass's head. If I am not afraid that I will accidentally blow off the head of a girl as lovely as one such as herself, what makes ye think I ain't afraid to accidentally hurt yers?"
The crew wasn't so amused at this charade, though they may actually have been rather amused, as they started laughing evilly at this.
"Why don't ye entertain me and me crew and actually pull that trigger?" Davy asked.
"I'll be happy to," Willy said. Then he turned with the gun against a crab-headed man's head. "How about now?"
"Enough!" cried Davy. Immediately, Willy was drowning in the very floor of the ship, sinking fast.
"Mommaaaa!" he cried, as his last gasps above the surface were heard.

He woke up as a supporting beam for the ceiling in the lower hold.
..................................................

During the next 3 or so years, he was a supporting beam. After that, he got promoted to a job where he could actually move a little: he was to dry the outside of the ship anytime it got wet. One day, as he was doing his job, a haughty member of The Crew went and challenged him to a game of Lair's Dice. Willy was happy to oblige. After 10 rounds, he had found that he, as the wacky self he was, was a champ at this game. His term was shaved off by a little under 7 years.

The next day, while he was drying the ship, he suddenly felt bloaty. He looked at his hands only to see that they appeared human again. Suddenly, he realized that he was no longer part of the ship. He grabbed on to the only thing he could catch: a lone barrel. As he and the barrel fell into the sea, he laughed at the way he was cheating Death and The Crew: Davy'd be might mad if he saw the wet ship.
..................................................

Willy floated in that barel for a good 28 days. If you think that's impossible to do without fresh food and water, you're right: Willy still had some seawood to eat stored in his potookus from the time he had left The Flying Dutchman, and a convenient rain came every other day to cure his thirst.

On the 29th day, he was apprehended by the name that even all the bad spines in this world straiten at: Ms. Potatobottom.

Still to come: Willy turns wily! Willy turns 18! Willy turns good! Willy turns bad again! Willy turns in his sleep! As well, the wait is over: is the Au Gratin kind or mean? Is it good, bad, or alright? Is it mean in a good sense? Is it bad in a good sense or alright in an eh sense? Read on to find out!

Chapter Five

Willy woke up to the smell of one of the greatest scents his collective minds had ever smelt: the Au Gratin of a certain lady whose existence had been now anticipated for four chapters strong.

"I see you're up," the frail lady said. "Now, what's yer name?"
"Why that ain'ta nunna...!" As League showed his sass, she showed him hers, smacking him in mid-sentence.
"I ain't pick up your driftin butt for a none a'that!" she said. "Now what's that name?"
"Willy!!" he said, trying his hardest to hide his tears.
"Now, make your bed while I cook yer dinner," she commanded.
"I do what I want!" he protested. The lady's paddle came around.
"What was that?" she asked, checking she heard correctly.
"I do what I'm told," he corrected. She gave him a cookie. After that, he went for the jar. She smacked his hand. When she eventually left, he rubbed it, trying his hardest to erase the pain. He'd leave after dinner.

Dinner came around. The lady said grace. He crossed his fingers. She smacked him. He closed his hands. He moved his hands to eat the Au Gratin. She smacked his hands and pointed to his fork. He took it gingerly, his hands now decently bruised.

He took a bite of what he barely mustered in his mouth. Sensations not even possible leaped across his tongue. He was resting on clouds, being massaged by the water of deep ocean depths, warmed by the pressure of the earth's core, shot out of cannons, cradled by his mother, leaping over birds, ducking under insects, flying over trees, licking a frozen flagpole, running against a strong river current, floating on a sea of flamingoes, blazing in a fire of brine, walking among whales, staring at leviathan, talking to behemoth, sword-fighting with Davy Jones, pillaging with his dogs once more, on the sea again with his sea turtles, winning at pirate's dice, taking command of the entire League of Willies, ruling the world, reclining in Chattahoochee, glowing in the blaze of fireflies, making imitations of cows, dancing with daggers, stomping little bugs, sleeping in mud with pigs, eating good Au Gratin...

She smacked him, killing the feeling. "Eat with your mouth closed." He obeyed, till he forgot two mouthfuls later. He got smacked again, but he didn't mind that so much anymore, nor did he mind the old lady She smelled good from making the dish. She smacked him for sniffing her.

The next day, she began his education. She tought him basic math, calculus, how to make an impromtu grenade, basic English, Skakespearian literature, advanced Latin, some molecular reactions, and a million other things that would eventually help him. Soon, she wasn't smacking him every 10 seconds: it'd eventually be every 30 seconds, though he'd still salivate when eating the monthly Au Gratin, being smacked a few times more for chewing with his mouth open.

The lady opened up too. She told him her name (Ms. Potatobottom), her occupation (a gardener), and, well, to be quiet.

Still to come: Stuff happens to Willy! Not much new there. Stuff happens to Ms. Potatobottom! Oh dear!

[League]

To be used for the exploits of Part II: The Inestimable League.

[League]

Chapter V has been added, and is pretty good if I say so myself.