Written at 3am

      Believe me, when your ship has run aground on a hidden sandbar, tide isn't due for another couple hours, and you find yourself being swarmed by an army of big fat waddling things, you really start to rethink the choices that led you down this path. And Lupe captain Gallus was severely reconsidering his life of piracy. Or a life on the high seas for that matter. Heck, he was starting to think playing with the toy sword as a pup was a bad idea.

      "All hands on deck!" he bellowed. "Draw swords or I'll feed your scurvy livers to the, err…"

      And here it struck him that 'to the fishes' really wouldn't have the same weight as it usually did. So he improvised.

      "I'll let the zombie Bruces have ya!"

      That seemed to do the trick. Crew came pouring out of the below deck, daggers between their teeth and cutlasses drawn. Behind him, at the wheel, his first mate looked on the scene dourly.

      "They aren't zombies, captain."

      "Whose ship is this?" he snarled in response.

      "Yours, sir."

      "Then on this ship, they're zombies!"

      Really, it wasn't that far of a stretch for the imagination. If you squinted, tilted your head at just the right angle, and maybe sneezed while doing so, you could easily mistake the lumbering mutant Bruces for lurching zombies and if you had a really bad earache their warcries easily became a mindless "braaaaaaaaaaains."

      On the main deck, the battle was going poorly. The Bruces, while short, weighed nearly twice that of the average pirate and were easily able to overpower them with sheer mass. Captain Gallus made a mental note if they survived this to raise the crew's rations. Maybe enlist a couple of them in that eating contest. Yeah, that'd be good. The crew was starting to notice their disadvantage as well, for they put themselves into small knots, fighting back to back, and the smartest of the lot started climbing up the rigging.

      "Captain, this isn't going well," the first mate said.

      "Do I look blind?"

      "Well, with all due respect sir, but you are wearing an eye patch."

      Gallus growled. That was a sign that the first mate should stop talking, and he did so.

      "Has the tide come in enough for us to sail clear?" the captain asked.

      "Not since last time you asked, which was-"

      Gallus growled again.

      They were near the northern part of Neopia, a far cry from the traditional hunting grounds of pirates. Gallus had his reasons though. Getting too crowded. Seeking out new territory, new towns to raid. That sort of thing. However, as things usually do, it went wrong. With new territory came uncharted oceans, and so, while sailing closer to the coastline to get a look at what might be a settlement, they ran aground. While they waited for the tide to come in, the crew clustered at the side of the ship to see what they could of the coastline. Slightly rimmed with frost and a smattering of white in the trees. It was a lot colder than their old stomping grounds and the crew had been complaining for days now.

      That was when they first sighted movement. Just a couple figures moving about in the trees, no immediate cause for concern. Then the forest had erupted into a horde, charging straight into the water and swimming for the ship. Like those cheesy books where the badly described undead hordes rush the valiant main characters. Except pirates couldn't be precisely called valiant, so the chances of a happy ending here were about 50-50.

      Most of the crew had followed the smart ones into the rigging. The Bruces were too clumsy to climb up after them and so they just danced around at the bottom, waving their flippers in the air and screeching. It was enough to make someone go mad. That was when the horde noticed that there were still two pets left within their reach.

      "Uh, captain, I have to say that when I signed up there was nothing about undead Bruces in my contract."

      "So they're undead now, are they?" Gallus growled.

      "Well, it is your ship, so what you say goes. And I believe the captain also defends it to the last?"

      The Lupe barely had time to formulate a response before his first mate booked it and dove overboard.

      "Coward!" he shouted and brandished his sword. The Bruces growled and charged.

      In stories, it would have been a heroic fight with the valiant Lupe holding off the vile mutant Bruces and saving the day against all odds. Of course, that usually required the hero to be pure of heart so he could slay a dozen foes with the sheer goodness that emanated from him. As a pirate, Gallus was a bit lacking in the goodness and pure of heart departments. So, it was a rather one-sided fight. The first Bruce got the sword between the eyes, but the thick spines just caused him to go cross-eyed and fall over backwards. By then another Bruce had come up behind Gallus, and another took a flying leap. End result? Dogpile with Gallus at the bottom.

      "Enough!"

      The shout caused everyone to freeze and everyone to turn and look. A figure was standing on the edge of the ship, clothed in black, with a black scarf trailing in the wind. She was a red Aisha and across her back were two curved swords.

      "That… is not a ninja," one of the crew in the rigging said, dumbfounded.

      "Did we get lost or something? I thought those were only in Mystery Island."

      The ninja-Aisha ground her teeth.

      "Silence, curs! I decide who can talk from this moment out!"

      Silence reigned, but only for about a minute and a half.

      "I mean, honestly, a ninja. This far north? Attacking a pirate ship with mutant Bruces? What gives?"

      The ninja sighed. Hopped down off the railing and stalked across the deck to where Gallus lay pinned under one of the Bruces. She kicked his sword farther away from him.

      "I suppose I shall have to enlighten you just a bit," she said, "Yes, I am a ninja. As to what I am doing here, well, my purposes are my own, but think for a moment. Ninja? Generic evil bad guy? Honestly, you just can't expect much intelligence from pirates."

      Silence reigned. The ninja surveyed her horde and then nodded absently to herself.

      "Excellent work, my minions. You have secured this most useful vessel for our future conquest. First, throw all the pirates overboard!"

      "How, missie? We're out of your reach!" yelped one of the pirates in the rigging.

      There was a blur of movement from the Aisha. A flash of metal, and then the rope he was hanging from parted in two and he went plummeting to the ground to be seized by the Bruces and thrown overboard.

      "Ninja? Shuriken? Honestly. Now, you can come nicely, or we can do this the hard way."

      Unsurprisingly, the pirates decided to come down of their own accord. One by one, they were heaved over the side of the ship and into the water to swim to shore. All the while, the ninja stalked about the ship, muttering under her breath.

      "Scurvy Weewoo? Who names a ship something as horrible as that? And when was the last time this deck was swabbed? Eugh, I imagine the captain's quarters are just as bad."

      "My quarters are quite nice, I'll have you know!" Gallus roared.

      "Sure they are, once I remodel and make myself at home."

      She snapped her fingers and the Lupe found himself being hoisted by three of the Bruces. He hollered, threatened, but it was no use. He too was thrown overboard with the rest of his crew. Sputtering, he bobbed in the water for a moment before dismally swimming to shore. Behind him about half of the Bruces had jumped out as well and were now working to free the ship from the sandbar. This was so unfair. A generic evil ninja with an undead Bruce horde took over his ship and was now going to use it to conquer Neopia, instead of him. He'd never be able to live this down.

      "Right," he said upon reaching shore. His crew all stared at him. "We'll recoup our losses. I know we can."

      "Captain," someone said, "Are we going to try and get our ship back?"

      Gallus turned and looked at the Scurvy Weewoo. It was free now and the sails were being raised. He could see the ninja Aisha at the helm and a Bruce hanging off the side repainting the name to something else.

      "Actually, no," he said, "That ninja is going to remodel it and probably will replace all the grog with tea or something nasty." The crew all made faces. "And worse, it'll smell of undead penguin dung!"

      "But sir, they aren't zombies…"

      "I KNOW they aren't zombies!" Gallus roared, and then stood there for a moment, panting. He straightened and regained his composure. "Anyways, we'll get a new ship. A bigger one. Now! Off to Krawk Island! Grog on me when we get there!"

      With a cheer, the crew all turned and started walking down the shore towards the south. Gallus sighed and tugged on his jacket. Yep, another dire situation salvaged by his brilliant leadership and tactical knowledge. Now if only his first mate would stop giving him accusing glares.

      Far far away from the pirates, days later, sat a lone Aisha in a rowboat. Her clothes were tattered and her scarf was missing. The former pirate ship, Scurvy Weewoo, was only a mast sticking out of the water in the distance. The mutant Bruces were nowhere to be seen, apparently having abandoned their evil master at her moment of defeat.

      "Sailing!" she wailed, "What was I thinking? What does a ninja know about sailing?"

      And with a dismal sigh, she picked up the oar and started rowing towards shore.

The End

A very special thanks to Patjade for her suggestion.

Patjade: You should write a story about undead Bruces vs. Pirate Lupes or something.

Me: Oh MAN

Me: why must you give me ideas...? Whyyyyyy?

Patjade: Ebil, I'm totally ebil.

Also dedicated to Rider, my favorite pirate rival.