66A/N The two of us Bridgette and Megan are doing yet another self insert story! Ya, i know! But we couldn't resist! We hope that you get some laughs and that you like or even love this fic! And from now on we will do our separate points of view . Bridgette's in italics and Megans in bold. let us know if the story is confusing this way and we will try to help you understand. And here we go!
CHAPTER ONE
WHERE IN THE WORLD ARE WE!
I picked up my phone and in my excitement almost dropped it "No, not my phone!" I screamed. I let out a breath of relief when it didn't fall to the floor and shatter. I hurriedly typed,in Megan's number and had to redial several times to get it right. When i finally got it right and Megan picked up, I didn't give her time to say hello and said "My house now! We got a pirates marathon I just got all of the movies that are out in HD!"
Who wouldn't wanna hear those precious words? Because I for one, with every single fiber in my being and with every single breath of my lungs, loved to hear those words. So it was entirely acceptable for me to fangirl with epic proportions, ya know? I mean, come on, I'm the kind of girl who becomes elated at the sight of a ladybug, so my reaction to this entirely, and utterly, acceptable. Except...the problem was...I kinda sorta was having a little snack during those epic words, and my cheeks were proportional to the size of a foraging chipmunk.
"Wh gohda pahates mathon!?" I happily screamed into my cell, sending a spray of gooey cinnamon roll to splatter all over my screen. I could practically hear poor Bridgette's disgust.
"Megan?"
"Hhh?"
"I told you about eating on the phone, didn't I sweetheart?"
Oh poop. Quickly I swallowed down the icing covered cinnamon dough, running a napkin over both my mouth and precious phone screen. Oh I doubt the dear thing will ever fully recover...I hardly put any effort into cleaning it. "Whoops, sorry! On my way!"
Forgetting to hang up, I yelled upstairs to my mother telling her I'd be gone, swung a bag over my shoulder, and took off over to Bridgette's house. I could just tell something amazing was gonna happen. It was as evident as the lingering cinnamon on my tongue.
As soon as I heard a scrambling sound on my phone and Megan screaming like Johnny Depp was in her room with her. I knew that she was running over to my house that was a couple of streets down without hanging up her phone. I facepalmed and thought: Yypical Megan- I love her to death but she can be so gross and get way over excited over the silliest things. Not that seeing Jack Davenport and Tom Hollander is silly! I mean have you seen them they are both gods! I don't know what I would do if I met either of them as their portrayals as James Norrington and Cutler Beckett (or even themselves).
My front door opened with a bang as Megan came scrambling in and almost falling over herself in her fangirl excitement. And she raised her phone that was covered with chewed cinnamon roll to her ear and said "Well start it now! I can't live another second not seeing my true love!'"
I gave her 'the' look and said "Sweetheart, first, hang up your phone. Then, clean up your phone and cheek then we can put on the movies ok?" Then I gave her a smile you give a 5-year-old and not a 18 year-old-girl. She gave an over eager nod and ran to one of the bathrooms in my house. Sometimes I had to be the mother in the situations even though I was only a year older than Megan because, if I didn't we would probably both die and get eaten by fire ants. But, I knew I was just as excited as Megan because as soon as the thought of James Norrington and LORD Cutler Beckett ran through my head I fell out of my chair. A shot of pain ran up my spine but I hardly noticed as I started fantasizing about two pairs of British lips.
I looked at myself excitedly in the ornate bathroom mirror. Oh gosh was I mess when I came in here. A mess with a capital M, just like my name. I had food stuck in the corners of my mouth, my dark hair as wild and crazy as a hornet's nest, and my eyes had this feral look to them. Ya know, like the kind of look a psychopath would give before stuffing a blade up your gut? Wait...too much information.
But travelling on saner topics, I looked much more decent now, emphasis on the word decent. My lion's mane was tamed (thanks to Bridgette's brush that she's told me a thousand times over not to use), my face is no longer a mess of crumbs (thanks to Bridgette's personalized "B" hand towels that she's told me a thousand times over not to use because she prefers for me to use the guest), and my eyes... Well I still look like my favorite accessory is a strait jacket, but I splashed water on my face and that had a somewhat serene effect. Yet it's so hard to tell and all since my opinion is sorta biased.
"BRIDGE!" I hollered, not tearing my eyes off of the mirror. "Do I look insane?" Silence. Ugh, so annoying. Chewing on the bottom of my Eos-chap-sticked lips, I spun around, my elbow clipping on the little shelf that Bridgette has in her bathroom, the one that I put my bag on earlier. Pain flared up my arm instantly like a wild-brush flame, and I turned on the shelf to tell it off when my eyes latched on my bag. It had spilled over during the collision. Now all my gum wrappers, lip gloss, cinnamon Trident strips, mascara, and pencils were spread out on Bridgette's tiled floor like a hoarder's version of a mosaic. Oooooh, Bridgette is so totally not going to be pleased with me. I always make a mess at her house, and she promised me severely last time (after reprimanding me) that she was NOT going to help me when I make a mess again. Which she knew that I undoubtedly knew that I would. I sighed through my nostrils, instantly exhausted. Oh why do bad things happen to good people?
Running my tongue over my lips I bent over to clean it up, shoving my hand into the clutter when it brushed against something smooth. Too smooth. Curious, I pulled it out and gasped loudly.
Inside my trembling fingers, was the smoothest, unblemished, and perfect black pearl I've ever seen.
Megan came stumbling out of my bathroom (wait, my bathroom! she is soooooo gonna get it!) and skidded to a stop in front of me and looked down at me. She then gave me a curious look (with her psycho eyes) and said "Why are you on the floor?"
I glared at her and said sarcastically " I was looking for your sanity."
"Oh, ok." she said.
I rolled my eyes at her and pushed myself off the floor and said "What were you doing... What is in your hand?" I moved closer to my crazy friend as I said this to get a closer look at it. It was perfectly round and black and as shiny as a freshly polished mirror. I shot her a confused look and reached out to touch the beautiful object and...Boom!
I opened my eyes and suddenly felt a headache coming on. I reached up to rub my temples to try and ease the pain. And realized that I was laying in sand, I shot up from my position on the ground and instantly regretted it as I swayed on my feet trying not to land head first into the sand and get a mouthful of it. I looked around for Megan and saw her passed out ten feet from me. I went to run to her but found I was hindered by petticoats and beautifully fashioned fabric. Before I distracted myself with admiring it I carefully picked up my skirts and hurried to her.
I stood over her and was sorely tempted to kick her but being the good friend that I was I bent down and slapped her on the face and screamed "MEGAN!"
"Bridgette!" I screamed shooting up into a sitting position. Pain exploded in my forehead as I slammed my head into something hard, seeing fireworks dance behind my eyelids. Tears jerked at my eyes and I kept the scream bottled inside. Ouch, ouch, ouch, ouch, ouch, ouch, ou-
"Ouch!" my best friend shrieked in my face.
Startled, I opened my eyes, taking in the sight of an injured Bridgette before me. Her eyes were squeezed shut and her nose was scrunched up in pain. "Bridge?" I murmured at her, rubbing my head. Pain throbbed inside me as I rose my lips up in a smirk. "Thanks for the wakeup call."
With a quiet sigh, she opened her eyes and looked at me sternly. Automatically my smirk dissipated off my face as I shrunk under her clear authority. Oh, please don't tell me that she was in Mommy Mode. Once in that mode, anything I say, anything I do, is suddenly waved off by the decree that it was "immature" and her seriousness didn't see the "logic" behind my "childish antics". "Megan," she said slowly, carefully, like a lioness stalking their prey, circling around for the kill. I gulped. "I think that we have bigger things to worry about."
As soon as I said those words I looked around to find that we were on a strip of beach. The water was lapping at the shore lazily and when I turned around I saw the rising stone wall of battlements large and intimidating, there were sounds of men giving orders to 'stand in line' and 'fix your uniform.'
I turned back around to face Megan my headache reaching a fever pitch and at the same moment we said "Where in the world are we!?"
But, we both had different tones in those words, hers was a mixture of excitement and curiosity, and mine held distress and truthfully I felt a sense of adventure fill my being and I had no idea why. Then, I thought that it might be a good idea to get off the beach and try to find someone to tell us where we were because, I had less idea as to what was going on then I did when someone asked me if I wanted to be a Polar Bear. (Megan had asked me that surprisingly)
I snatched Megan's wrist with my right hand and with my left I lifted my skirts and headed towards the battlements which were the closest and the only place I knew to have people within. When we were halfway there I finally noticed what Megan was wearing. She was dressed oddly with a white loose shirt and a vest over it, and pants that were held up by a belt that had a sword attached to it. Wait...a SWORD! I can't trust her with that thing! So I let go of her wrist and snatched it from her waist and tucked it into my skirts where no one could see it.
"Hey! That's mine!" Megan whined.
"You cannot be trusted with sharp objects of any kind! People should duck and cover when you have a plastic knife! If you have a sword I don't think anyone has a chance. Now, lets go over there," I pointed to the battlements. "And ask where we are, because why you're dressed as a pirate and why i'm dressed as a lady of the 17th century I have no idea."
Then I think it dawned on us both, what movies do we LOVE where there are people that dress exactly like we are? The first thing that came out of my mouth when we had that revelation was "Oh, my, God! We get to see James's promotion! Hurry Megan! We can't miss it!" And I started to drag her as fast as I could to the what I now knew to be Port Royals military fort.
"Whaaaaat?" I whined, my arm screaming in agony. Honestly, was she trying to rip my limbs out my socket? "You're not making any sense!" Our feet crashed against the beach, sending tiny little sand particles up in a cloud of dust, the perfect opportunity for it to slither into my leather boots. "Bridgette I'm getting saaaaaand in my boooooooots."
"Megan, we can worry about your fashion malfunction later," she said, with that steel determination in her voice. Poo, when she gets that voice...I'm never gonna get this sand out of my boots!
"But there's some in my panties also!" I cried, trying my absolute best to ignore the painful wedgie. But frankly, I'd cope better with you saying that my house has burned down, along with all the bacon in the world inside it. It was uncomfortable, and it burned, and quite frankly I believed that if this continued I would get- Oh gosh. Oh gosh, oh gosh, oh gosh. "I'm gonna get a raaaaaaash."
Oh the blind horror! Oh lordie, no no no! I dissolved into whiny blubbering, actual tears streaking down my face.
At this, Bridgette finally stopped, her shoulders slumped forward in annoyance. "Megan," she told me tersely. The power in her voice was so strong that I actually stopped crying and looked at her with a dazed expression. "I don't think you understand the full weight of this situation-"
I scoffed lightly under my breath, casting my gaze furtively to the side. If there was any misunderstanding here, it was on her part. I mean: I have the possibility of a butt rash hanging over my head, and to be honest, going to the pharmacy to buy THAT kind of creme is whole entire level of humiliating. I don't want to face the silent judgement of that cute employee there for the umpteenth time.
Suddenly, something caught my eye. Curiously I looked up and gasped at the gorgeous scene above me. A cliff side and green rolling hills were dotted with exquisite buildings, a wonderfully vintage feel weaved into the beautiful bricks. The colors were wonderful, like an artist fell from the heavens and decided to try and capture a mere fraction of what it was like up there. And I'll tell you, that twenty-five percent is amazing. But...that's not what caught my attention. Overlooking a cliff was a smooth stone wall with an arch above and standing inside it were two very familiar people.
"Ohmigosh," I whispered under my breath as my eyes strained to see no other than Elizabeth Swann and Bridgette's precious James Norrington. Honestly, she would dedicate a cult specially fashioned to that hunk of meat. Bridgette followed my gaze, her pink lips widening in an unbelieving smile. Honestly, I bet my fangirl face was doing the exact same thing. This was unbelievable! Elizabeth's curled head looked out distractedly to the ocean, frantically fanning herself. That's when my slow brain suddenly digested this miracle in. Oh-my-gosh. OH. MY. FREAKING. GOSH!If she's there a certain scallywag can't be far behind and so that means that-
"WE GOTTA GO!" I bellowed at the top of my lungs and took off for the stairs in the distance.
Bridgette gasped in shock and chased after me. "Wait up! I'm wearing a corset!" she complained, overwhelmed by sudden bipolar change of attitude.
"Corset, schmorset- I GOT A SPARROW TO CATCH!"
And that, is how we ended up in the wonderful Caribbean, along with the mischievous band of pirates.