Island 1: The Grootslang

Cannons boomed, planks shuddered.

"Captain!" someone shouted.

Sam looked up. He thought about shaking his head to get the fogginess from his skull, but his insides were roiling, and he didn't think that was a good idea. There was enough mess on the floor already.

"Captain!"

"Ugh..." Sam said, as authoritatively as he could. He'd hoped to be a little more coherent during battle, but here he was. Getting knocked to the deck'll it every time, he mused. Still, it probably wouldn't hurt for him to close his eyes just a second longer, to calm his pounding head.

When he finally opened his eyes, his quartermaster, Cuddy, was leaning over him. Sam wasn't sure he liked the look on his face.

"We've already split the loot." Cuddy said gruffly.

Had they? How long was he out?

"Oh. Right." Sam nodded, pulling himself to his feet.

Rubbing his hands together, he looked around. He was below deck with his quartermaster, the irritating cannoneer Finn, and some small cabin boy Sam didn't recognize. They must have made port and the rest had disembarked. He guessed he could live with that. He turned back to Cuddy.

"So, what've we got?"

There were some grumbles, but overall he was ignored. Was that any way to treat a captain? Something was clearly wrong. He glared around, not willing to lower himself to asking.

"Well, while you were napping during battle, we secured all the loot onboard that ship." Finn said finally.

Sam glared at the accusation but let the man continue.

"All told, each crewman received six silver ducats, three golden reales, and one pound of flour." Cuddy grumbled.

Sam just stared at him, trying to comprehend.

"It wasn't a merchant ship."

Oh. Well, that was definitely a problem. Still, he couldn't let a little thing like that slow him down. What would his loyal men think?

"I have another job." Sam grinned. "I was saving it, but I think now's the time. Gather the crew— I'll tell you all about it."

"We are the crew." Finn snapped. That brought Sam up short.

"You're...what?"

"This," Finn said, gesturing around the room. "Is the entirety of your crew."

"What? The three of you?"

Had things really gone that poorly? Though if he was honest, it was difficult to remember the last good raid they'd had. He guessed he could see why some of the men might be a bit unhappy.

"And Pickles." the cabin boy announced, pointing. Sam didn't even bother to turn. His whole crew had left him, and this boy was pointing out that at least they still had that infernal parrot?

"Who could forget Pickles?" Sam mumbled, sighing. "Be that as it may, I've got a new job— one that'll land us in the history books for certain."

"And what new job could you possibly have before we even get off the ship?" Cuddy asked skeptically.

"There's a place not far from here— a bottomless pit filled with diamonds. It even connects right to the sea. All we have to do is sail up and take it." Sam started nodding, a conspiratorial grin on his face. "Eh? What do you say?"

"Yes, sir!" the cabin boy spoke up instantly.

"And you're just now telling us about this?" Cuddy asked.

"Well, I wanted to save it for my most loyal crewmen." Sam said. Cuddy scoffed.

"And all these diamonds are just sitting there, all by their lonesome? Why's no one taken them before?" Finn asked. He didn't believe Sam any more than Cuddy did. But his greed was legendary; he wouldn't pass up the chance.

"Well...there is a guard, of sorts." Sam admitted.

"A single guard?" Cuddy asked. "What kind of guard?"

"Ever heard of a Grootslang?"

"No."

"Perfect." Sam beamed. "It's just a small snake that lives on a rock in the middle of the pit. We'll be fine."

"How small?" Cuddy asked. Fifty feet. Could swallow a man whole. But did they really need to worry about that just now?

"Tiny." Sam assured him, spreading his hands out only a few feet apart.

"Venomous?" Cuddy asked. Sam had no idea.

"I think it's more like a boa." he said finally. "With diamonds for eyes."

"Diamonds for eyes?" the cabin boy asked, his own growing wide.

"Yep." Sam nodded.

"Then how can it see?" Cuddy wanted to know.

"I have no idea." Sam sighed. "When we capture it, you can find out for yourself."

"A snake with diamond eyes would be worth almost as much as the diamonds in its pit..." Finn mused. A slow grin started forming on his face, and Sam knew he had him. They resupplied— a surprisingly easy feat for four men and a parrot— and set off the next day.

When they finally arrived at the pit, it was larger than even Sam had anticipated. It was the size of a small lake and filled almost to the brim with the biggest diamonds he'd ever seen. Sam motioned everyone to be quiet, getting out the fishing net they'd recently acquired.

"Snakes don't have ears." Cuddy replied. Sam didn't care; he wasn't taking chances.

They approached the edge, almost crawling. No snake. Sam stretched his fingers out, pulling a few diamonds towards him. The shores remained calm. Greedily, he started shoving anything that would fit into his pockets. His miniscule crew did the same.

They stood up to leave, pockets bulging and belts straining under the weight of jewels, when the Grootslang finally made an appearance. Sam had heard the thing was big, but the stories didn't do it justice. It spilled out of its cave, coiling up on the small rocky island that suddenly seemed way too close for comfort. It flicked its tongue out, tasting the air, looking for them.

"Look at those eyes!" Finn gasped. "Diamonds the size of my fist!"

He grabbed part of the net, helping Sam spread it. They cast it perfectly across the diamond pit, ensnaring the serpent's head. The Grootslang hissed, immediately diving into the safety of its endless diamonds. The crew struggled valiantly, but they were no match for the giant snake.

Of course this didn't work, Sam thought to himself as he sank into the pit. There was a reason he was known as the worst captain in the west.

Island 2: Mythical Bunny

Sam was dragged into the bottomless pit, wondering how it had all gone so wrong. He hadn't even wanted to be captain— he'd only taken the job because the last captain got scurvy and had to be tossed overboard. Now that Sam thought about it, how was he feeling? Was he tired lately? Achy? How were his teeth? He guessed he felt a touch overburdened, but he'd thought that was from all the captaining he'd been doing. At least it didn't look like he'd be doing much of that anymore; he'd drown in diamonds instead. He guessed it beat scurvy.

He wondered how far down a bottomless pit really went. At least Cuddy wouldn't be able to ask incessant questions about it. It seemed like forever before he felt anything other than the crushing, sharp diamonds. Then, he felt lightheaded. His fingers and toes tingled. The next thing he knew, the diamonds were falling away, and he could breathe again.

He sat up in the dirt. The rest of the crew was lying there, looking mostly unscathed. Sam checked his pockets and was relieved to find them still brimming with diamonds. And there seemed to be several that had fallen down his shirt. Actually, he might have even more now than before.

"Great plan." Cuddy sneered.

"You're rich, aren't you?" Sam shrugged.

"Pickles!" the cabin boy yelled worriedly. Did the bird actually follow them?

"Where are we?" Finn asked.

Sam looked around. He didn't want to admit it, but he had no idea. Though, he guessed that was obvious to his crewmen by now.

They seemed to be in the middle of some type of arena. Rows of seats stretched away from him, and a semi-open roof showed the azure sky overhead. Sam looked up, noticing that everyone seemed to be wearing large pointy hats. Those he could see in the front rows were wearing matching robes.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the forty-third Melee-mania!" someone announced. Sam turned and saw a man wearing an ornate robe with gold trim and the obligatory conical hat standing on a kind of podium at the edge of the stadium.

"The what?" Cuddy asked. "Who are these people? Where are we?"

No one answered him. Instead, they were focused on the man at the podium.

"You all know the rules— each participant gets fifty points for every incapacitated combatant. You have one hour. Good luck to all our brave volunteers!"

"We didn't volunteer!" Sam shouted. But the crowd was roaring, and no one paid him any attention.

The spokesman waved his wand, sending a spark up into the sky. Once it was overhead, it burst into a blinding sphere.

"What the—?" Sam started. Then, he was slammed into the ground.

A giant of a man had tackled him. Robes ragged and hat askew, he was reaching desperately into a pocket, trying to get a wand of his own out of the folds of cloth. Sam decided to help him out. He grabbed the man's wrist with one hand and the wand with his other. He yanked it towards him as hard as he could. Apparently, his foe hadn't expected that, and Sam was able to get the wand from him before leaping to his feet.

"No— please!" the man said, holding his hands up in front of his face.

"Not so brave now, are we?" Sam mused.

Unfortunately, he had no idea how to actually use a wand; he'd never believed in magic. But that didn't mean he wasn't going to try. He waved it quickly, pointing it at the man. The man let out a squeak before disappearing in a puff of smoke. When the haze cleared, a small rat started running frantically towards the arena wall.

"Fifty points to the scruffy brunet man!" thundered through the sky. Sam guessed that was him.

He looked around and was just in time to see Finn launching at someone with his cutlass. He looked like he was doing fine; where was the kid?

Sam found the small cabin boy running across the far end, a gangly woman with wild hair and a maniacal laugh skipping after him.

She raised her wand, and Sam knew he'd never make it in time. He raised his hand, trying his luck with the wand again. He missed. Twice. In desperation, he flicked his wrist as hard as he could. A cloud of smoke enveloped the woman, spreading out to engulf the kid. Sam's heart almost stopped. He waited until the cloud cleared, dreading what he'd done. When it did, he saw a confused deer looking frantically around.

And the boy? Sam was relieved to see he seemed fine— aside from the antlers that had sprouted from his head. As soon as the boy spotted Sam, he rushed over. When he did, Sam saw his ears were also rather deer-like.

"Have to get that fixed later." Sam mumbled.

"Time's up!" the disembodied voice boomed.

Sam looked around. His crew seemed relatively unhurt. They huddled together, not trusting the remaining "volunteers".

"And now, the grand finale! Our most terrifying monster yet! Survive the blitz of this barbarous beast, if you can!"

There was a blinding light. Then, sitting in the middle of the arena, was a small, pink bunny.

Screams rang out on the arena floor. Cuddy snorted. Sam just stared.

The bunny bounced happily towards the fleeing crowd. With each hop, the ground shook. When it got within ten feet, it opened its tiny mouth. Flame burst forth, scorching three wizards. The cabin boy screamed, jumping behind Sam.

The bunny continued bounding around the floor, wreaking havoc as the wizards tried to get out. But apparently, the doors were magically sealed. The bunny made short work of the few remaining wizards before turning back towards Sam and his crew.

It hopped closer and closer. Sam wasn't sure if his legs were shaking or if it was just the ground tremors.

The bunny opened his mouth. This was it. Then, something green fluttered down, landing lightly on the bunny's head.

"Pickles!" the cabin boy shouted gleefully.

The bunny looked up. Seeing the parrot, it let out a cry and bounded off in the opposite direction.

Island 3: Captain Clarke

Note: One orange, bought from the Port Market to cure scurvy, is being used.

Once Sam and his crew were let out of the stadium, he finally got a good look at the land they'd found themselves in. He'd assumed the dirt had been limited to the arena floor, but he'd been mistaken. There was no greenery at all in the city, and only a few tufts of half-dead grass once they'd left it. Apparently, the inhabitants' overuse of magic had brought unforeseen consequences. Too much magic, not enough food. The sooner they got out of here, the better.

He stashed his newly-acquired wand, and using a few of the larger diamonds from their Grootslang adventure, purchased a ship of his very own; he and his crew were always lost on land, and this place seemed even worse than Pirates' Cove. They set sail, not bothering to look back.

But each passing day, Sam got more lethargic. He'd thought it was the strain of that Melee-mania— or maybe all the extra captaining he'd been doing— but the rest of the crew seemed to be suffering similar fates. When his gums started bleeding and Cuddy's old war wound opened up, he knew: scurvy. It was a good thing they'd left that famine-infected land when they did.

As they slept longer hours, it became harder to keep weather-watch. The whole crew was slumbering when the biggest storm Sam had ever seen rolled in. The waves crashed over the deck, making it hard for Sam to sleep. The ship rocked from side to side, until a particularly big wave struck, and Sam fell out of bed. He rubbed his eyes and dragged himself to the deck. As soon as he did, he wished he hadn't.

Rain was coming down in sheets, and the ship was listing so bad that he had to tie himself to the deck to keep from being swept overboard. He made his way over to help Finn with the rigging. Cuddy and the cabin boy came up not long after.

Cuddy manned the wheel, and the four of them managed to keep the ship going fairly straight for a few exhausting hours. The ship creaked worryingly. But Sam was convinced that through the torrential downpour he could see the faint outline of land in the distance.

"We're not going to make it!" Cuddy shouted into the wind.

"We are!" Sam insisted. "Just a few minutes longer!"

Sam hadn't come this far to be drowned at sea. He was going to sail into that bay in his brand-new ship if it killed him. It was too bad the ocean seemed to be trying its level best to make that a reality. Still, he wasn't about to give up. That is, until the mast came crashing down mere feet from his head.

It turned out, that was a pretty great way to kill a ship's momentum. Not long after, the ship capsized, sending the four crew members into the frothing sea.

The good news was that they were close enough to shore that they could make a swim for it. The bad news was that Sam wasn't going to be gliding up to port in style like he'd envisioned. This really wasn't going to do much for his reputation.

They dragged themselves up into the sand and collapsed on the beach.

"Everybody here?" Sam mumbled into the dirt.

His crewmates made various noises that he took for affirmations. The parrot squawked, landing on his back. Sam was too weak to bother with it.

As the rain continued pounding, someone came up and grabbed his arm. It took Sam a moment to realize he was being dragged into a nearby building. He was dumped unceremoniously onto a table, and let out a grunt. He looked around. It took a moment to orientate himself. And when he did, he let out a groan that had nothing to do with his illness or the terrifying shipwreck he'd just survived.

"Well, if it isn't Captain Calamity himself." a woman sneered. Sam raised his head as far off the table as he could manage and gave his best grin.

"Penelope!" he said. He tried to go for suave, but he ended up coughing on the last syllable. Penelope scoffed.

"Someone get this man some orange juice." she commanded. Sam heard footsteps receding. "So, you want to tell me about your latest misadventure?"

"You mean where I discovered a pit of diamonds, fought in a magical duel, and bought my very own ship?" he asked.

"Oh. Better add delusional to your symptoms then." she mumbled. "Where's this ship of yours then?"

"At the bottom of the ocean."

"Convenient."

"Really? I thought it was the opposite." Sam said, laying back down on the table.

Penelope scoffed. But when she spoke next, she didn't sound quite so annoyed. "Well, things have changed quite a bit while you've been off on your mad little quest."

"How so?"

"Well, Clarke's taken over as captain of The Amaryllis for a start."

"What happened to Williams?" Sam wanted to know.

"Taken at sea."

"Oh."

Sam had always liked Williams— they'd been on the same ship together, back before Marshall had been forcibly retired. But if Clarke was in charge of The Amaryllis now, he was the de facto ruler of the island. And he would not be excited to hear that Sam was back.

Sam managed to bribe Penelope into renting him a room. All he'd had to do was give her a few of the diamonds he'd sewn into his pockets before the wreck. And it was enough to get him a few decent meals and apparently all the orange juice he could drink. Sam grimaced; he never did like the stuff.

He wondered if he could make it taste better. He wasn't any better at magic than he had been in the arena, but he had all the time in the world to practise. He was just pulling that wand out of his otherwise-empty scabbard when the door flew open. He instantly let it drop back down.

A tall man in heavy boots sauntered into the room. His hair was windswept and his face looked like leather. He smiled humorlessly.

"Sam." the man grimaced.

"Clarke." Sam replied.

Island 4: Sail Away

Note: Two cotton balls, bought from the Port Market for the siren's curse, are being used.

After Captain Clarke came to visit, Sam knew he had to leave. Oh, sure, Clarke hadn't actually said anything threatening. But then, he didn't have to. Sam knew that if he valued his hide, he had no choice but to get out of here. And the sooner, the better.

At least Penelope's orange juice seemed to help. In just a few days, he was feeling well enough that he could probably safely slip away unnoticed. So, once it got to be night, he left a few of his diamonds on the nightstand for her, tucked his wand into his scabbard, and snuck down the darkened stairs. They creaked a bit, but he figured most of the other patrons would be too drunk or too unconscious to notice. Everything was going swimmingly, until he opened the front door.

"Who's there?" someone called out shakily from the shadows behind him. Sam recognized it almost immediately as that small cabin boy who'd followed him when most of his crew had happily deserted.

"Kid?" Sam asked, sighing to himself. Why did the cabin boy have to be awake now?

"Captain?"

Sam heard the soft sounds of feet shuffling towards him.

"Where are you going?" the cabin boy asked.

"Well... I..." Sam stumbled. Finally, he said, "I was just going to get a bit of fresh air."

"You're leaving, aren't you?" the cabin boy asked, sounding strangely disappointed.

"...Take a walk with me." Sam said after a minute.

They walked out of the tavern together, Sam guiding them vaguely towards the docks. He might not have a ship anymore, but he could probably manage to board someone else's. At least he had more than enough to pay his fare for once. Then, he'd be free.

It wasn't that Sam wanted to leave, but he couldn't stay here. He was known in Pirates' Cove by a number of nicknames, none of them exactly flattering: Captain Calamity, the Worst Pirate in the West, the Bumbling Buccaneer... Why couldn't he be the Brave Buccaneer? Or the Matchless Marauder? Or even just Sam?

No, there was nothing left for him here but ridicule. The Ridiculous Raider.

"You ever think that a pirate's life isn't all it's cracked up to be?" Sam found himself asking the kid. It was kind of a rhetorical question, but he unexpectedly found himself wondering how someone so young had gotten into this.

The kid looked at him and shrugged, but didn't say anything.

"I mean, the looting's great when you can pull it off, but doesn't it seem like there should be more than this?"

Sam couldn't believe he was confiding in someone so much younger; what was he thinking? Though he guessed it was because the kid was here, and if all went to plan, he'd be the last person Sam would ever talk to before he left this place. So what did he really care?

"More than scrubbing decks, carrying buckets of slop to the crew, and trimming the sails?" the kid asked. Sam laughed. The kid did have a point; he had one of the worst jobs on the ship.

"Exactly." Sam nodded. "What's your name, anyway?"

"Milo." the kid said.

"Milo, huh?" Sam said absentmindedly, trying to remember if he'd ever known that. It definitely seemed like something he should have known. "What made you want to be a pirate anyway?"

"Adventure." Milo grinned. His face darkened slightly as he looked down at the sand beneath his boots. "Hasn't always worked out that way though."

"It certainly hasn't." Sam agreed.

But maybe that was the problem. Maybe Sam didn't want adventure. At least, not the sea-faring kind. Besides, it wasn't a particularly lucrative life for him. His success rate was so low, there were whispers that he was cursed. And it wasn't as if he needed the money – he'd managed to get plenty of that. It really did figure that his only successful raid had been on a snake. No one even believed him when he told the tale.

Off in the distance, far across the water, he thought he heard singing. Sirens. Sam shuddered; it was an excellent reminder of the type of dangers he faced daily on the sea.

"You'd better be getting back to the tavern." Sam said, looking down at the kid. He was probably too young to be taken in by their allure, but it wasn't worth the risk.

"What about you?" Milo asked.

"Me?" Sam looked out across the sea. "I think I'm going to go on one last adventure."

"You don't mean...?" the kid sounded nervous. He glanced at the waves before whispering something about that song. Sam laughed.

"Oh, don't worry – nothing like that, my boy. No, I think I'm going to see what lies out past the southern shore." There was no way he was going anywhere near the rocks where the mermaids made their home. He attracted enough trouble on his own – why invite more?

Once Sam had convinced Milo he wouldn't be going down to Davy Jones's locker any time soon, he sent the boy off and finished the sandy trek to the docks. The Esperanza was still in the harbor. Sam grinned. He was fairly friendly with their quartermaster; he was sure he could bribe his way across the sea. And if not, there was always the navigator from the Aboat Time. Younger and less reputable, but he'd do in a pinch.

Sam pulled at a rip in his coat that he'd gotten when his exquisite, majestic ship was dashed upon the rocks. He probably should have gotten a new coat before he absconded, but he didn't want to waste the time. And this old coat would have clear advantages tonight.

He pulled a few tufts of cotton insulation out and stuffed them in his ears. Then, he settled down on the sand, watching the waves and waiting.

It wasn't until just before sunset that Jason finally came staggering up the dock. Sam turned to him and grinned. He cautiously pulled the cotton out of his ears, glad that the sirens' song had apparently stopped as the sky started to brighten.

"Jason!" Sam grinned. "I need a ride."

Island 5: Sam's Scrumptious Strudels

Sam woke up to pale gray light streaming through his window. He laid there a few minutes, mentally preparing himself for the day ahead. Finally, he got out of bed, got himself dressed, and made his way down the stairs.

He didn't bother to unlock the doors, but he did turn on the ovens before heading into the cellar. That's where his real work would begin.

He had to admit, this new life was a lot different than his old one. No rocking planks beneath his feet, much cooler temperatures, and not nearly as many swords. Instead of planning elaborate, doom-fated heists, he only had to worry about whether his flour supply would last the week.

As lunchtime approached, the delicious scent of meats, cheeses, and fruits started filling the air. He already had half a dozen customers in the shop before he'd even taken the first turnovers out of the oven.

Sam had never dreamed of owning a pastry shop, but he did know how to cook; he'd worked his way up from the galley on his last ship. Cook was the last good position he'd held before becoming steadily more infamous. Besides, this would be an excellent way for him to put some of his and Penelope's old recipes to good use. And so, Sam's Scrumptious Strudels was born.

It hadn't taken him long to branch out into more savory delicacies. Now, people came from all over town to buy meat pies, klobasneks, calzones, and samosas. Sam's samosas were especially good. He'd considered making those his signature dish and changing the name to Sam's Scintillating Samosas but had been warned against it by several people.

Sam pulled another sheet of pastries out of the oven, letting them cool before turning to the crowd. Standing with his rotund body pressed concerningly close to the counter was Mayor Williams.

"Well, hello sir!" Sam beamed.

"Hello." the portly mayor beamed back. Sam noticed he got many more smiles as a baker than he ever did as a buccaneer.

"What'll it be?" Sam asked.

"Get me a cheese and a chicken." the mayor said, pointing. "Oh... make it a cheese and two chicken."

"Yes, sir. Can I interest you in a blueberry turnover? Perhaps a lemon tart? Keeps scurvy at bay."

"Oh, I don't think I'm in any danger of scurvy, my boy." the mayor laughed, patting his belly. "Still... maybe a blueberry one. For the road."

"They keep scurvy away?" a rather ragged man asked from behind the mayor.

"Naturally." Sam assured him. "All my fruit pastries do."

"Really?" The man was clearly impressed.

"Guaranteed." Sam nodded.

"Then I'll take three!"

"Blueberry, blackberry, strawberry, or raspberry?" Sam asked, reaching into the display case.

Others had tried in vain to copy him, determined to cut into his business. Sometimes it worked – for a while. But eventually, when sailors came back desperate and needing one of Sam's sweets, the frauds would be found out, and Sam's popularity would soar. There was a rumor in the town that Sam used a special kind of dough for the berry-based confections. Or, maybe it was the way he sprinkled just the right amount of sugar on top. Whenever someone would ask him, he'd just grin and wink. He never mentioned the orange marmalade and lemon zest baked into each one.

Within four hours, Sam had sold out of every single pastry. He knew he could start up again for the dinner rush, but he never did like working that hard. Besides, he made more than enough money with just his lunchtime efforts.

He was in the process of cleaning up when someone walked into the shop, heavy boots stomping on the boards.

"Sorry, we're sold out." Sam said, not turning from the sink.

"Sam?" someone asked incredulously.

Same froze.

Slowly, he turned from the sink to see Cuddy standing in the middle of the room, looking like Sam had grown an extra head.

"What are you doing here?" Cuddy asked, looking around.

"Making pastries." Sam grinned. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to get you. I heard you'd gone south. But I hadn't heard any outlandish tales of ships exploding or cabin boys turning into deer – it was like you just fell off the map."

"Mmmm... how is Milo anyway?" He'd been a lot more skittish after that bunny battle, but he seemed to be improving when Sam left.

"Ask him yourself." Cuddy shrugged.

"What? He's here?" Sam sure didn't see anyone else in the shop.

"Down at the docks." Cuddy grinned. "Got a little surprise for you."

Sam followed Cuddy down to the water. There, waiting out in the bay was a ship. Not just any ship, but the most gorgeous ship he'd ever seen; it was his ship.

"This was at the bottom of the ocean..." Sam said in awe.

"It was." Cuddy confirmed.

"How did you..."

Cuddy grinned knowingly. Then, he shrugged.

"Bought another one." he admitted.

Sam laughed out loud.

"Figured you'd want to go on one last adventure." Cuddy said.

Sam hesitated. It wasn't that he didn't miss the salty sea sometimes. And the adrenaline rush. Still...

"I don't know." Sam said. "I wasn't a very good captain."

"Are you kidding? You were a terrible captain! The worst I've ever had!"

Sam narrowed his eyes and set his jaw.

"But I also don't know anyone else who's brave enough to go up against a real-life monster."

"You've got a monster in mind?" Despite his best efforts, Sam was intrigued.

"I do." Cuddy told him. "And if we slay it, you might finally be known by a name other than Worst Pirate in the West."

"I have other names." Sam insisted.

"Not good ones."

Sam grumbled to himself. "So what's this monster anyway?"

"Only the most feared creature in the seven seas." Cuddy said.

"Really?" Sam asked. He wasn't sure he liked the sound of that. "We getting paid for this?"

"...Mostly in adoration." Cuddy admitted. "But it'll cement our names in history."

Sam considered it. He didn't really need the money. And hadn't he always wanted to be remembered?

"Let's do it." he said.

He boarded the ship with Cuddy. There, waiting for him, were Finn and Milo. And of course, Pickles.

"Ah, my loyal crew." Sam grinned. "So? Are we ready go monster-hunting again?"

Island 6: Kraken

The sky was an ominous steel gray. The wind howled and the rain crashed into the deck. It was disturbingly like the last time Sam had been in a storm – when he'd lost his ship. At least this time, none of the crew had scurvy. So they had that going for them.

Still, Sam knew that wasn't the only thing he had on his side. He had his loyal crew. Sure, he'd had them last time, and yeah, that hadn't worked out all that well. But this time, he knew they were here because they wanted to be, not because he'd basically tricked them into it.

A large tentacle twice as thick as the main mast lurched out of the water. It was covered in suckers the size of Sam's head. Then another burst forth. And another.

The first one threw itself across the ship. The other two started wrapping themselves around each of the masts. The wood groaned in protest, and the ship leaned concerningly to starboard.

No!

This was not happening again!

There was just no way he was losing his ship a second time.

It was too late to bother trying to outmaneuver the beast – at least, not until they took care of those ghastly tentacles. Fortunately, Finn and Milo were already hacking away at the one wrapped around the main mast. Cuddy took his sword and rammed it straight into the one that had draped itself across the deck and was now squeezing in a most worrying fashion. There was a roar of thunder, and Cuddy only barely had time to pull his sword out before the tentacle quickly withdrew back into the water.

Sam breathed a sigh of relief. Until he realized that the sound he'd heard hadn't been thunder; it had come from the beast itself. Had it breached the surface? Sam whipped around and came face to face with the largest eye he'd ever seen in his life. The thing was probably about as big as he was.

Now, Sam liked to think he was pretty brave. He'd faced a giant snake, done battle with wizards, and plunged headfirst into not one but two storms – one of them on purpose. But at the sight of that horrific eye glaring down at him, he screamed like a child.

The kraken hoisted itself further out of the water, as the ship leaned further towards its gaping maw. Its beak snapped open and shut, and Sam knew it'd chop him in half if given the chance.

Sam took a step back, reaching for his own scabbard. Of course, he didn't have a sword there. He hadn't kept one since that melee. Swords were close-combat weapons. And he had something infinitely better. He still wasn't very good with it, but he'd been practicing in his spare time. Besides, he was pretty sure there was nothing he could do that would make this any worse.

Sam waved his wand, focusing not on any of the creature's concerningly long and thrashing tentacles, but on the horrific mouth that he was having such a hard time looking away from. An electric burst of neon green sparkles erupted from the wand, exploding not far from that giant black beak. It was quite pretty, but not exactly useful as far as he could tell.

Sam tried again. This time, it was bright blue. But he heard the beast roar again, and the eye snapped shut. Was the thing frightened? Sam laughed out loud; he could use this!

After a few more colorful explosions – more than one of which actually hit the monster – the kraken seemed to loosen its death-grip on the ship. It didn't let go, of course. Sam would never be lucky enough for that. But the monster was distracted, and that was all he needed.

"Cuddy! Grab the wheel!" Sam screamed as loud as he could over the still-raging storm.

He didn't turn around to see if Cuddy did it – he didn't need to; he trusted his crew completely. Instead, he kept waving his wand at the kraken. He tried to make something other than fireworks, but the only thing he succeeded in doing was making different shapes of fireworks.

The ship started tugging to port, and Sam braced himself. He took one final shot at the kraken before grabbing the mast. The kraken's enormous tentacle missed him by inches as it went crashing back into the water. At least this time, he'd successfully managed to avoid getting knocked out in the middle of battle.

Sam's final shot was a direct hit in the eye. The ship listed hard as the kraken finally let go. There was a brief moment when Sam wondered if they'd end up capsizing over the other side. But they didn't. Instead, the ship lurched away, battered, but still more than seaworthy. They'd actually done it!

"Congratulations, Captain." Cuddy said, clapping him on the back. "Now you can finally say you've slain something other than a snake."

"We didn't slay the snake." Finn pointed out.

Sam glared. Was this really the time? Fortunately, both Cuddy and the kid ignored him.

"Guess that means the end of 'Captain Calamity'." Sam said. "I wonder what they'll call me now..."

He was already picturing it. Maybe if he got to tell the story before any of his crew, he could slip in a few helpful suggestions. But before he could get too carried away, he was interrupted by Cuddy's sharp laugh.

"Something you'd like to share?" Sam glared.

"Just don't see why you think they'll call you anything new." he said. "I mean, you sailed into known kraken waters, armed with nothing but a fancy stick, and shook it until he went away."

"I caused explosions." Sam corrected. He hoped that when Cuddy was regaling ne'er-do-wells in Pirates' Cove that he'd phrase it a little better.

"Only proves my point." Cuddy insisted. "I don't know another pirate in all the seven seas who'd think of something like that."

"Not one." Milo agreed happily. Pickles squawked something that sounded suspiciously like agreement.

Finn raised his glass and grinned. "To Captain Calamity!"