Taxes 5 - Halloween / Day of the Dead

* * *
5B, Part 3: A Man of Wealth and Taste
* * *

Consciousness returned slowly to Jack at first, but then the day's events flooded his mind his eyes snapped wide and he gasped, and realized he was Byrd again upon this waking.

He sat in a leather chair, in an office with rich, elegant décor. There was a good bit of dark wood, and gold accents aplenty. The theme was distinctly pre-Columbian. Dare he guess...Aztec.

There was a man across from him, mostly hidden in shadow. He sat very still, moving only when he saw Jack awake.

"Pleased to meet you," came the voice, and it was raw silk over rocks and oh, so familiar. A voice he'd hoped he'd silenced in a cave long, long ago, a voice he knew in his heart he'd be hearing again and soon.

A voice that continued, "Won't you guess my name?" He leaned forward, into the light. Hair slate and sand, long and curling just as it had ever been, but beard neatly trimmed. Ice-melt eyes.

Hello again, Barbossa.

Oh, but there was no way he'd give him the satisfaction of reacting as he'd expect. He eyed the nameplate on the man's desk. "Hernando Ross, looks like." Squinted. "You look familiar. Have I audited you before?"

"So, that's the way ye want t' play it, is it now?" Barbossa folded his hands. "I know ye remember. I've an inside source or two..." He pressed a button on his phone. "Lass, could ye come in here?"

Moments later, a door opened, and in she stepped. Well. And that explained a few things. Red rage behind his eyes again, though he schooled his features so none of it showed. Her mid-length brown hair was upswept now, setting off diamond earrings. She wore a wine-dark dress. Barbossa liked his women in wine-colored dresses, Jack recalled.

"Dr. Schuyler? This is a surprise." He looked back to Ross. Barbossa. "It's a good thing you've got a shrink. You obviously need one. Do you have any idea what the penalties are for kidnapping an IRS agent?"

"Same as they are for kidnapping anyone else, I'd expect. Only, I didn't kidnap ye. I found you passed out downstairs and brought ye up t' my office to recover." He smiled. "Prove me wrong."

"Mr. Ross? Did you need me further, or did you just want me to stand here and look pretty?"

"The latter, lass. Ye can go."

Celia Schuyler left with just a parting glance at Jack, those captivating grey eyes utterly opaque. She'd wanted a confirmation too, though. Jack could swear she wasn't completely sure, herself, that Sparrow was awake.

"Jack, Jack, Jack," Barbossa chided, that old drawl growing stronger. "The sooner ye own up, the sooner we're done here. If it helps, I give ye me word that I won't kill ye or have ye killed tonight. And while we both know just exactly how flexible me word is, that's about as plain a statement as ye're likely to get."

Well. All right, then, and he'd asked for it. Jack closed his eyes just a second, falling back as Sparrow leapt forth. The world did not shift or spin this time, but swam into razor-sharp focus.

"In that case," Jack asked, leaning back in his chair, "Might I ask when ye came back? That is, when ye remembered?"

The bastard looked far too satisfied as he said, "When did I come back? When did I remember? Ahhhh, Jack, I came back a very, very long time ago, and I never, ever forgot."

It couldn't be...but Jack was beginning to feel a sneaking suspicion that it was...

"I was, of course, quite dead for some time, mind you." There Barbossa took a deep breath. "Not something I enjoyed. I'll admit, if I'd known ye were buggering Bootstrap's boy at the time, I might ha' played things a bit differently."

No point in telling him the buggery hadn't come along 'till a good bit later. Let him mistrust his judgment. "You remember being dead?" Curious despite himself, but all the spinning, calculating wheels in his mind saw no harm in asking.

"That I do, dying and death both." Barbossa steepled his hands, then laced them behind his head. "Dying was cold, I recall that. Death, now. Death made dyin' feel like a warm summer's day. If ye don't remember it, you've got better than you deserve. Cold it was, beyond all imagining, beyond all thought."

Jack did not remember cold at all. He did know, though, that in some cultures Hell was so described.

"In that bleak void, I waited, and begged for even the need and the numbness of the curse again, promised up me blackened soul that I might return even to that benighted state.and and behold..."

And hadn't Jack always known that to be his first mate's true curse? Always wanting what he did not at that moment have...and then for his sins, getting it....

Barbossa thumbed a remote control and opened the blinds full. Moonlight flooded the room and the flesh sloughed from his bones. And even though Jack was half-expecting it, it was still an incredible shock, enough to make him start and stare quite authentically.

Once, Hector Barbossa had looked a decaying zombie under the curse's hold. Now there was no flesh to him at all, save his eyes. All sere, dry bones was he, and the oddest thing was that his suit wasn't damaged by the curse at all, fine Italian cloth not falling into rags.

"So, if ye'd wondered at all where me treasure got to..."

//*My* treasure, you bony...//

"There's part of your answer, and as for the rest, well, just look around." A bone-white finger thumbed the blinds closed, and Barbossa smiled a small, satisfied smile. "A company like Eden Corp. needs capital to start, doesn't it? Though, in truth, 'twas Eden's far predecessor that the gold begat. I was brought back...well, after your death, but not too long after."

Brought back. That in itself could be valuable information if Jack lived to use it. Jack smiled, relaxed, almost boneless, spreading out in the chair. "Aren't ye hungry at all, then?"

"Having tried both, I can say for certahat hat it's better than bein' dead. And anyway, I'm hardly the only one. This whole *world,* Jack, and this country especially, it runs on unquenchable hunger and all-consuming greed." He spread his arms. "To Hell with apples, wine and sex! So I live in a state of constant want. Thanks to the wonders of modern advertising, so does everybody else!"

"Want." Jack slouched sideways and in just a bit, eyebrows raised. "And here we're at the meat of it. Ye've taken shots at me, twice at least, unless I miss me guess, but again unless I miss me guess you could have killed me just as easy as brought me here. What do you want of me, Hector?" Used his first name as he only ever did when the two were alone, not as a taunt this time, but the other way. Low, dark, almost warm. Jack leaned forward, smile ever-present. "What is it ye want me to do?"

And there, there for just a second, Jack saw flash in his eyes a hunger great enough to consume the world.

//Caught you. Now that is interesting.//

Then it was gone again, masked, suppressed. "Do, Jack? Why, it's very simple. I simply want you to do nothing."

"Beg pardon?"

"Well, you're right. I could've killed you at any time. I still can. So, one, I wanted to be certain you knew that, and that you knew, as well, that ye could not kill me. Chest, coins, and blood are all separate and all quite secure. Two," Barbossa continued, "I wanted ye to meet me dear Celia again, t' fully understand the new and very interesting things I can do to you and those around you. The meat of it, as ye say, is this."
He leaned forward, and he met, captured Jack's eyes. "Y' don't break your toys until ye're done playin' with 'em."

//Well. And...well.//

"Y' understand, if I were t' have ye killed now, or even shoot ye meself - it's so *easy,* Jack. There's no point to it. Now, if ye'd had such a great conflict with yer present life that ye'd leapt from a cliff, well, that might have been fun. If Greg had in fact been compelled to shoot you, and I understand 'twas a near thing, that might, just might...satisfy. But 'twas still a decent show."

Jack kept his grin, though he let it grow a bit rigid. He let his eyes grow just a little grave. There was not giving Barbossa the satisfaction, and then there was giving his audience what he wanted. The latter seemed to be the wiser course at the moment.

"You live t' amuse JackJack Sparrow, and when ye die, again, it shall be t' amuse me as well. So first I wanted to watch ye realize that fact. Second, I know ye must have already begun to plot and plan against me, as soon as ye worked out who I was, and so I say again, cease that. Do nothing. For if I do find meself forced t' kill you, Jack, know that I'll kill you last. After the commodore, after the lass, and especially after the whelp." Barbossa leaned forward just a hair more and Jack echoed the movement. "So, Jack. Are we to be two immortals locked in epic battle until Judgment Day and trumpets sound? Or," and he smiled that sly smile, "are you going to surrender?"

Jack leaned back again, stretching. "You've the advantage of me. Obviously we have an accord."

"And that was truly all I wished t' hear. Thankee, Jack." So of course, Jack cast his eyes about for the monkey, who didn't seem to be in residence. "Oh, but there is one more thing. Someday, perhaps soon, perhaps not, I'll come to ye for a favor. I'll just tell ye now that you'll grant it, for I'll be certain to come bearing the proper leverage, which may or may not be something as simple as a pistol t' the whelp's head." Barbossa stood and walked around the desk, to stand behind Jack's chair. "Ye should be strong enough t' stand by now. So, out with ye. We're done here."

Obligingly, Jack stood, then stretched again slowly, making a show of it, but feeling out what strength had yet to return to his legs. Surrender was one thing, showing weakness before this man quite another.

He stood, walked, swayed, really, working impairment seamlessly into his natural gait. His hand was on the door, and then he turned.

"If I might ask, why Royal Inc.? What was all that..." gesture "...business about?"

Barbossa closed a hand about the chair top and cocked his head. "And why not? Ye may have heard of that occurring elsewhere, earlier, or not, but the whole gambit was designed with Royal Inc. in mind. I just found it t' be more profitable with other competitors, sooner. Still, when I found that ye were in residence there...well." Sly smile again. "Couldn't resist, mate."

Jack opened the door, still facing Barbossa. "You realize, of course, that you're stealing all me lines."

Barbossa shrugged. "Pirate."

Jack winced, and got while the getting was good.

* * *

He knew, of course, that there were eyes on him as he made his way down through the darkened office building. Byrd had a sixth sense for video pickups, an ability Sparrow had made use of before. He didn't doubt, either, that a man like Barbossa had live guards at all times, and he was fairly sure he spotted a few of those.

When he exited the plush lobby, he received a surprise. In the parking lot were two uniformed guards, holding guns on Will and Elizabeth. Liz? No, he decided, looking at the particularly indignant set to her eyes. That was his rum-burning hellcat, to be sure.

One of the guards put a hand to his earpiece, and then they both backed out of striking range and lowered their weapons. They walked back to the building, one passing Jack on either side without any acknowledgment.

"Jack!" Will and Elizabeth exclaimed at once, and the lass moved in to embrace him. Will did not; they were in enemy territory still.

For his part, Jack furrowed his brow. "Ye weren't taken, were you? Ye found me." Raised a hand, wrist-first. "...How'd ye find me?"

"Car first," she said, and steered them to her Jeep. "I think we all wish to be gone from here." And when they were on the road, she said, "I found you. I think...I can always find you. I have a certain sense of all of us, and that appears to be part of it. It was Will's idea - when you vanished from the hospital, after what happened to James, he feared the worst. And, well, Eden Corp...was that...?"

"Aye, that it was. Your father's right, lass. Hernando Ross is Barbossa and none other. And you'll be happy to know that he doesn't intend t' kill me, as it's much more fun for him to leave me alive knowing that I can't kill him, and wonder what he'll decide to try to do to me the next time he gets bored." Jack inhaled, exhaled, searched the car with his eyes, then blessed Will with them as the lad violated the open container law and handed Jack some rum. Several long swallows later, Jack said, "Oh, and by the way, he'll be wanting a favor down the road, beyond my not doing a bloody thing to make his life at all unpleasant, else he'll kill all of us and me last. That's for me staying out of his business, not for the favor, though he might use any or all of ye for that, too."

"Same old bloody bastard," Will observed, and Jack thought this to be the perfect time for the rare expletive from his smith. "But should he try, I think he shall find that we are not such easy meat."

Oh, and bless Will too for the old fire in his tone that brought Jack to attention, and made him wish Elizabeth gone, unless she wanted to join in.

"Can't kill him..." Will continued. "You don't mean..."

"Aye, Will me lad, I'm afraid I do. Unless I misunderstood, and I didn't, not only is he cursed, again, but he has been for the past few centuries or so. Mayhap some late and unlamented soul of the brethren tried t' use his bony, rotted hand t' scoop out a coin and got more than they bargained for...or not. However, he's cursed, and apparently he's decided that he'd like t' stay that way. But the hunger..." Jack smiled now, a little. "The hunger still has him, though he denies it with all he's got. That might just be useful down thad.\ad."

They were all fairly quiet, then, 'till Jack's house, Elizabeth coming in behind them to say, "You know, of course, why what he tried to do to James did not work."

"Technically, he tried to do it to Greg, but aye, I've an idea."

"It's because we lied, all three of us," Will said, and Jack executed a bobbing nod. "Norrington's last wish was that he not be remembered as a traitor, and thus the history books have Captain Jack Sparrow as his killer. Barbossa had no way to know that this was wrong, as only we four knew, and could not recall 'till the Commodore unlocked his death and the memories beyond." He reached out an arm to hold Elizabeth close and she sighed, leaned in. Jack forgave himself a purely piratical, possessive surge of jealousy.

"This being Barbossa," Elizabeth put in, "do you think that what he told you in that penthouse had one shred of truth to it?"

"Oh, especially being Barbossa, it had at least a shred. The best lies...at least, *his* best lies...all have a kernel of truth at the core. But how to interpret..." He let his hands sway, conductor-like, to his speech. "It may be just as he says. He's toying with me because he wants to, with no better reason, and because he sees little risk to himself in the game. Or, it's just barely possible that he wants me alive as we're the last two pirates left in this world...no offense, Will, I know ye try..." He had to duck a swat at that one. "...and when I go he'll be alone again - better yer worst enemy than no one like ye on the face of the earth."

"That's if you're still his worst enemy," Will said. "If you're right, he's been alive a very long time, and a man like him will have made others."

"Smart whelp - I was just getting to that. Brings me right up to the third option." Perfect opportunity for a dramatic pause, which itself was the perfect opportunity for a long swig of rum, and he took it, of course. "It may be that he really has a use for old Jack that serves ends I couldn't even begin to guess, and that he's finally looking past both desire and revenge." He knew he looked uncommonly serious now, and didn't care. "If Barbossa's finally gotten that savvy, we could really be in for it."

"I shall follow your lead, my captain, as always," Will said.

"Leaving out all the times that both of ye *didn't,* that's gratifying t' hear." But he made use of one of Byrd's softer smiles to take the sting from his words. "For now, though, I've no problem doing exactly what he wants, which is nothing. It's me favorite thing to do, after all, especially when there's rum and good company." He managed to grope Will and pinch Elizabeth at the same time, fluidly ducking her return smack.

"I think that's my cue to rejoin my fiancée - they may release him early next morning, after all." She moved to the door, but before leaving, turned and asked "So you'll keep your word, then?" No judgment whatsoever in her tone, though Jack knew she would be overjoyed with him for breaking it.

"Of course I will," Jack replied, and then let go his sharpest, fiercest grin. "Until the opportune moment."

* * *

The Jeep started, the lights came on, and Jack turned to Will who was all but vibrating with suppressed desire. "I thought she'd never l-mmmph!" was all he managed to get out before he was tackled, covered, ground into the couch by a desperate, grasping smith, who wasn't Smith but Turner, primarily, and ohhh, that was nice. Undulating above him, the lad was, and popping buttons in his haste to get undressed.

"Take me, Captain," Will gasped when they broke for air. "Take me hard - I need to feel you, strong, alive..."

"Ah, my William, ye needn't fear for your Jack. I've two lifetimes of tricks and savvy, and he'll not have me..." Jack slid his hands beneath Will's jeans, caressing, coaxing a moan. "...which doesn't mean I'll not give ye exactly what ye need t' feel secure...never let it be said I didn't take care of me mmmm...ahh...oh, ohhh yes..." Teeth at his neck, something they both liked well...but Will wanted hard...Supporting them both for just an instant, Jack rocked them to their feet, backed Will around the couch, steering him to the living room wall, where those pants came down. Then Jack's pants, their shoes and socks kicked off and away.

Up against the wall, now, was Will, and Jack was groping, sucking, grinding. Will was groaning, which was veice ice indeed. And leaking from Jack's attention...well. Jack took that, mixed it with the beads at his tip, biting his lip when his hand ran up and down his length. Leaving off with regret, he licked that lovely, sensitive neck and thrust three fingers in at once, to a toss of sweaty brown curls.

"Please..." Will moaned, hips jerking up and back, body bending and braced. "All of you, now. *Hard,* Jack..."

No denying that plea, not for the world or all the gold in it. Fingers out, himself in all the way at once and GOD this was life and need and connection and hard, pounding desire, Will against the wall and crying out, "Jack! Jack!" like a prayer...

"Right here," Jack whispered in his ear as the lad's warmth took him, consumed him. "And I always shall be, sure as you belong to me..." Byrd behind his eyes, keenly approving and riding the cresting wave of need along with him...they grew tight...were close...were *there* were oh OH! "WILL!" Came so hard their legs buckled and they bore all to the floor, Will sighing and grinding his hips about their softening manhood.

"Jack..." Will moaned, in a voice that made Jack shiver through his pleasurable haze, and Jack slid out, down, away, but back, replacing his presence within with presence without, mouth closing around Will's tip and sucking hard. Hips thrust up and he moved his head down obligingly, drinking the man in 'till his thighs shook. Jack grabbed those hips and teased the junctures of those thighs with his thumbs, and that was all it took, Will releasing hot and sweet with a wordless cry.

They held each other there for a long moment, then Jack reached up, grabbed thick blankets from the back of the couch, and wrapped them both. He slid a hand from Will's to go turn up the gas on the fire, then reached down to give Will a hand up that turned into a kiss.

They left the fire on for heat, showered, and went to bed, but Will caught Jack heading out for a post-confrontation, post-coital session with his guitar.

"Helps you think, huh?" Smith again, as Jack was Byrd.

"Yeah."

"Me, too. So what's the song for the bad guy?"

"What else?" He ran his fingers over the strings, then started singing.

"Please allow me to introduce myself. I'm a man of wealth and taste..."

Will wrapped his arms around Jack's shoulders, swayed with him.

"Pleased to meet you, hope you guess my name. But what's puzzling you is the nature of my game ..."

* * *
EPILOGUE 1: SWAN RAMPANT
* * *

From his desk chair, Barbossa looked out at the moonlit city by the sea. The light filtered through the blinds, striping one arm flesh and bare bones by turns. A long day, even longer night, and sleep, whether satisfying or not, was still a necessity. He contemplated heading home, and as he did so, his phone rang.

"Don't blame Jack for this," came the voice on the other end. "I'm afraid I had him bugged."

"And you arrrre?" Barbossa drawled.

"Oh, my apologies. We've shared a corner of the same market for a while, but we've never really talked. It's Warren Swan. Captain."

"Hmmm. So ye were that governor once upon a time."

"That I was. So how many times do you intend to sack me?"

"If I knew what ye were talking about, which of course I don't, I'd say once per lifetime should work fine. Tradition, ye understand. Now, what about Jack? I'm on my way out. Are ye going to ask me to relent, or some such?"

"Oh, no, by all means," Warren replied. "Enjoy. Let him worry, let him fear, let him twist in the wind. What do I care? There's just one thing..."

"Aye?"

"If you ever, and I do mean ever, actually hurt any members of my family *or* their friends again, I am not taking the time to find out what you care about and destroy it. I'll go right to the source."

"Surely you heard. You can't..."

"Well, not traditionally, no. But nowadays, there are all kinds of lovely weapons that can burn bones to ash. I wonder just how indestructible you really are - do you care to risk it? And are you sure you wouldn't feel that kind of damage?" A pause, and then, pleasantly, "Just something to keep in mind. Good night, Mr. Ross."

There was a click, and the slightest bit of a dial tone, before Barbossa set the phone back on its cradle.

* * *
EPILOGUE 2: THE ONE-EYED MAN
* * *

No one had found him yet.

That was all the proof he needed that Joey was doing right by him. Joey had the weight of the whole Pintoli organization behind him to keep the rest of the gang's mouth shut, but it was useless against Joey himself. That and the fact that only Joey really knew Robbie's hangouts and routines - Robbie knew that as long as he was free, Joey hadn't sold him out. So, time to do right by Joey, then.

"First step's information," he murmured to himself. "Knowledge is power, and all that." So, here he was, outside the window of the source he had the closest connection to, gun in hand. Not wanting to wait for the self-tinting lenses to adjust, he wore the glasses that were permanently half dark, half light.

Robbie peeked in, pulled back, and slid a leg over the windowsill. Pulling the rest of his body over, he flattened himself against the bedroom wall. He saw the vaguest outline of a figure in the living room. Robbie ghosted to the hallway, edged close. Then he stepped out, aimed the gun, flipped on the light and said, "Lo, Mack."

"'Lo Robbie," the tall, bald black man said, without turning, in a matching London accent. "Been expecting you, actually."

"Really."

"Yeah. Look, you want to come around and have a seat? I'm unarmed."

"And you say you were expecting me?"

"Would have been, even if I hadn't been told to."

"Well, now that is interesting." Robbie kept the gun trained on the much bigger man - even if Mack was telling the truth, and apparently he was, he could break Robbie in half without much trying. The skinny blonde settled himself into a leather armchair, and said, "I hope you're ready to share, then, mate. Time to tell me who you work for - who I've been working for, even, this whole time."

"All right."

Robbie's eyebrow raised and his eye widened. "Really. Well. This is turning out to be much easier than I thought."

"He told me to tell you, although he thinks you're mostly just seeking confirmation at this point. So, I'm to confirm that the source for most of your intel has been, in fact, Hernando Ross and his organization."

"Huh. Well, that's a start..." Robbie eyed Mack warily. "Tell me this isn't the part where someone shoots me in the back of the head."

Mack shook his head, smiling slightly. "I asked him if that was how it was going to go down. If it was, I figured I owed it to you to have it be to your face, us being mates and all. You know what he said to me?"

"What?"

"He said, 'Waste not. And you can tell him I said that.' End quote." Robbie opened his mouth, but was cut short when Mack held up a hand, and then a white envelope. "He also told me to give you this, and then we'd proceed once you'd seen it. Bit of a mystery to me, actually. I'm curious."

Robbie took the envelope, which bulged a bit. There was an odd feeling in his throat, suddenly, a welling behind his Adam's apple. He swallowed and lifted the flap, retrieved a round, wooden bead, worn nearly smooth by time.

//No splinters...// he thought idly, and then...

He breathed in hard and sharp. "My eye!" Shook head to toe, gun forgotten on the floor. "Me eye! Me eye! Where'd you find it? Where?"

Mack stared at him. "I told you. Mr. Ross gave it to me to give to you. That thing's an eye?"

"Eye. Aye, an eye." He let out a high-pitched giggle, and now Mack was looking at him all cockeyed. Heh.

"So..." Mack said slowly, "Do you want me to take you to him or not?"

He stood and backed away suddenly, the chair skidding against the wall behind. "Or not. Not, absolutely not." Wide-eyed himself now, because he knew. He knew, he remembered, and he understood.

"Robbie?" the Bo 'sun said. Not the Bo 'sun, not, not, no...Mack, his name was Mack...oh, best not to disturb the captain, he'd be very cross indeed...

"Very cross..." he murmured. "I...I 'ave to go..."

" What...what'd I just *do* to you, mate? Robbie?"

"Not exactly," he whispered, turning and running for the window. He didn't stop for rather a while.

* * *
END
TMF
* * *

* * *
Credits for 5A - Halloween:
* * *

First, as always, many thanks to Gundam Nymph for the beta!
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Second, the Taxverse now has fan art! Woohoo! Yay! Thanks #_voidstar - you're the best! Check Jack and Jack (and Hector!) at http://void-star.net/art.php?galleryID=9&picID=291.
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Bunny Credits! Thanks, guys! I used as many as I could, and tabled the rest for later:

Three separate people mentioned Buffy's Halloween ep, so I just had to. They were Tathren, Merhawk, and Venka. Thanks, guys!

Permetaform suggested candy corn - heh.

Rokeon and Juniper200 thought Jack should have as much trouble putting his costume together as the rest of us; I used one of Juniper's lines verbatim 'cause it really worked...Ro also thought Jack should spike the punch at the party :).

Shino Hoshi was curious how Jack and Will would react to trick-or-treaters. My first idea was that they'd pass out candy, but then Annie Mae made a phone call and the rest was history.

Kyouichi - sorry Jack didn't get slapped in West Hollywood! The whole thing was fairly tame due to the rain, because, well, it *was* this year. Yes, I got drenched.

Alicia Graybill advised it might be interesting for Jack to find his ring at a costume shop; it became a plot point :).

Nightfire of the Braids...thanks for letting me use your icon text! I'd been wanting to work it in.

To all who emailed / posted with Koehler (now Tyler)'s name and manner of demise, thanks! I went with the consensus. Hope I don't miss anyone: Audrey, andyeascrewyou, merimalfoy, firesignwriter, juniper200, threepio, Lydia, Ziggy, Ann, Psocid, and Alicia Graybill.
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References:
"I have to say these things or they just fester..." was a direct lift from Darien Fawkes' dialogue from the late and very much lamented TV show, "The Invisible Man." That show rocked the house.

The video game characters that the bar patrons thought Jack and Will were dressed as can be found here: http://homepages.ihug.co.nz/~wattses/char.htm. For extra fun, check out Barbossa's doppelganger, LeChuck. Will doesn't look as much like Guybrush after Guy gets his doofy red jacket in the fourth game, but here are the G-man and Elaine with a monkey, anyhow. http://www.gamescreenshots.com/fullpic.asp?category=PC&pic_id=5421&game_id=43&gallery=0&picOrder=0

If you want some background on Ethan Rayne and Rupert Giles, check out Loey's great episode guides to the two Buffy eps ripped off...err, *referenced* herein:
Halloween: http://members.aol.com/LRL94/halloween.html
A New Man: http://members.aol.com/LRL94/anewman.html

Songs for this episode included:
The Spongebob Squarepants Theme Song - http://www.spongebobworld.com/themesong.htm
Stand Up by Ludacris - http://www.lyricsondemand.com/l/ludacrislyrics/standuplyrics.html
Party Up by DMX - http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/dmx/partyup.html

No songs about reincarnation this go-round, but I take requests!

Finally, a little explanation re: Jack's first captain. Black Jack Savage was a (fictional) Caribbean pirate who began his career by taking over the slave ship that had him in the hold. Over the course of his pirating he killed 100 people, though he really doesn't think the slavers should have counted, and when he was finally hung in his own courtyard he was cursed to haunt the place, somehow saving a life for each life he took. More on this fun, short-lived D*sney series here: http://www.tvtome.com/tvtome/servlet/ShowMainServlet/showid-4494/ and here: http://us.imdb.com/title/tt0101082/. Anyhow, the rest of it is that on the series, though not the pilot ep., Black Jack Savage was played by Steven Williams. Steven Williams also played the captain to a certain squad of high-school narcs that were based out of an old church at...yep. 21 Jump Street. So, in a way, Black Jack really *was* Jack Sparrow's first captain. Savvy? ;)

* * *
Credits for 5B - Day of the Dead:
* * *

Bunny Credits!
*The abovementioned Juniper suggested people getting possessed on DotD -I took the original bunny and twisted it almost beyond recognition ;). Thanks, J!
*Rokeon asked if we'd find out what unhappy memory Norrie was carrying. Yep! Did it have to do with Jack or Will's deaths? Nope! Close, though...
*Connie asked if we'd bring Barbossa back on DotD. Hoo, yeah.
*The street the Day of the Dead fair is on is, in fact, named after a certain Irish vampire, currently co-starring in Psocid's "Crimson Ways."

References for Day of the Dead:
The Carmilla Street Fair is based on the Dia de los Muertos Fruitvale Festival, held each year in Oakland, CA. Webpage for this year is here: http://www.unitycouncil.org/dia2003/index.html. Click on the Artists' Pavilion link to find a list of this year's altars.
More interesting links:
http://www.nacnet.org/assunta/dead.htm
http://go-southwest.com/articles/dod1.shtml
http://www.mexconnect.com/mex_/muertos.html

You can find the lyrics for "Sympathy for the Devil," by the Rolling Stones, here: http://www.lyricstime.com/lyrics/32257.html .

That's it! On to Taxes 6, the Thanksgiving special, which I hope to have out by New Year's...You think I'm kidding...Anyway, Professor Bill Smith returns, and Liz goes to Texas to meet the parents.
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TMF

P.S.: Anyone notice this is the second time Norton's dropped his gun? I think he must be a Sentinel ;).