Disclaimer: This parody is in no way supposed to belittle the people who died in 1991 on the noble Andrea Gail. But it was so sad, my screwups HAD to lighten it up. And the screwups, their mine. You can't have them Naoko! YOU CAAAAAAAN'T!

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An Adequate Squall

by Ritsuko

SKILLS: In the fall of 1991, a great travesty happened off of the coast of Delaware. Eleven people dissapeared forever into the bowels of. . .

The Adequate Squall.

*cue Titanic theme music*

GOTH: TURN THAT SHIT OFF!

*record scratches, as Tweek and Misc look up sheepishly*

SKILLS: You ought to be ashamed of yourselves!

SHAKEY: Yeah! Cheap shot! Cheap shot!

GOTH: Aww, fuck it. Pan in on the goddamn town.

*We pan in on a small, happy fishing town on the east coast. It's the middle of October, and one boat, the Over the Rail, is getting packed up for one last jaunt at swordfishing. From the opposite end of town walk in our heroes, in their usual attire. (If you don't know what that is, check out Chapter 1.) They seem to be fighting.*

MISC: But I want to go to Acapulco!

TWEEK: Well, that'll teach you to let Shakey plan our vacation.

SHAKEY: Aww, c'mon now, spud. . . GI! GI! Have you ever seen how pretty the cherry blossoms are in the spring in Delaware?

GOTH: Shakey, it's Fall!

SKILLS: My only word of advice. *pats Shakey on the shoulder* RUN.

MISC: *pouting* Wanted to get a tanline, look cute. . . get a man. . . a CUTE man. . .

TWEEK: Damn! Doesn't this place have any coffee? *looks up* What's going on over there?

MISC: There's. . . there's GUYS! *in a flash, Misc is halfway down the pier, and hiding behind a barrel to get a better look.*

GOTH:*leaning over and whispering to Skills* We're in it deep if they have arms.

SKILLS: *opens his mouth to say something, but quickly closes it* Hey, they must be going out for quite awhile. . . lookit all the food. . .

GOTH/SHAKEY/TWEEK: FOOD?!

SKILLS: Crap.

SHAKEY: Let's see if they got any openings, spuds. . . I could get mah sea legs back easy. . .

TWEEK: THEY'VE GOT COFFEE!

GOTH:*looking dubiously at the two* Who said I was sharing?!

*They all walk up to where Misc is drooling on one of the barrels.*

GOTH: *grabbing her* C'mon, vacation's over.

SKILLS: Oh well. . . *reaches into first aid kit to ready some no ouch bandaids.*

*Goth saunters up to Cap'n Clooney as the rest start eating all the food that hasn't been packed.*

GOTH: Hey you! ER dropout! You need anymore crew?

CLOONEY: *looking irritated* No. Were trying to be correct with the storyline here. You'd mess it up. Just beat it and stop eating our food!

GOTH: You'll be sorry. . . you'll see. *angrily stalks back over to the screwups.*

SHAKEY: GI! GI! What did he say, spud?

GOTH: Asshole. . . I could have made a better Batman than him.

TWEEK: Ya think?

GOTH: *growling* I know.

MISC: C'mon! Just look at him!. . . Delicious. . . *busts into fits of laughter.*

SKILLS: So I guess we're going home then?

GOTH: No chance! Time for the illustious Plan B!
ALL: OOOOh. . .
TWEEK: What's Plan B?

SHAKEY: *pulls out codebook* Well, spud, it looks like we're barbequing raccoons and prancing around with them on our head in a ceremony to the Norse god of cheese. . .

GOTH: NO! NO! NO! Nothing so complictated. . . just stuff yourself in a box and we'll get packed on!

MISC: And with the food to boot! Whee hee! Great plan!

TWEEK: HURRAY! *looks happily at a box* Mmmm. . . Cap'n Crunch! *dives in and covers herself up with cerealy goodness*

SHAKEY: OOo. . SPUDS! *jumps into a crate of potatoes, and lightly plays a harmonica*

GOTH: *climbing into a crate of steak meat* I love being me!

MISC: THEY HAVE POCKY? Geronimo!! *flips into the box as a bunch of cracking is heard.* DAMMIT!

SKILLS: *holding a few pieces of paper* Waitaminnut. . . have you guys even read the title of this? A squall?!

MISC: *from inside her box* Ooh, he's cute!

GOTH: *yelling* Not the game you moron! And you! No more from you! Get in your box!

SKILLS: Why me? *sniffs* Hmm. . . do I smell . . . Doritos? *gets an evil glint in his eye and starts grunting and making odd sounds.

TWEEK: Go to it, Carmichael!

SKILLS/CARMICHEAL: MLLEEEACH!!! *scrambled into the box, as the fishermen unknowingly load the boxes onboard.*

*Scene change: The boat is way out to sea at the moment, tossing on the ocean as it normally would as the guys on board joke while the captain pilots the ship.

JOHN: Hey, I'm getting a little hungry here. . .

WILLIAM: I could tell.

JOHN: Hey, what do you mean by that?

Mark: Stop it you two. . . I'll go get us some snacks. *he walks down to the bottom hold of the boat to where all the food is* Hmm. . . what to eat?

MISC: *inside a box, singing*. . . love me, love me. . . say that you'll love me. . .

MARK: Wha? *goes over to the box full of pocky* Is someone in there? Or do the Japanese give away really cool toys? *excitedly opens the box, and sees Misc* Who the. . .

MISC: *blinking, with a mouthful of Pocky* You. . . *blushes* Weren't you that guy in the movie, with the really big-

MARK: Yes. . . yes I know. Why are you in there?! Captain doesn't allow stowaways.

MISC: So do you really have a -

MARK: Hey! Why're you?

MISC: Hee hee. . you're cute when you're flabbergasted.

TWEEK: *from inside a box* Oh great.

MARK: That's it, I'm telling the captain! *suddenly, Misc slaps a handcuff on his wrist, that is connected to one on hers.*

MISC: *smiles wickedly at him* You. In here. *yanks him in the box as he yelps in terror. The box lid slams down and all is silent.*

Three Days Later. . .

*Captain Clooney is writing in his logbook, as we hear him read over it.*

CLOONEY: Entry log number three. The Over the Rail has run into a number of freak accidents since we shipped out of port. . . after sailing past Amity Island, we ran into some big trouble with a shark. Damn thing shorted out the ice maker for about ten minutes, causing the yogurt to spoil. Finally we just threw John Hawkes overboard, and it hasn't bothered us since. But recently, all of the other crew members have dissapeared down into the hold of the boat, but when I've searched, there is no trace of them. *Clooney scrathes his chin and writes with a depressed look on his face* To top it all off, all the captains who thought I'd never make it have been calling me up on the radio and making orgasm noises. It isn't funny! I can't stand it! If only there was a girl on this boat or a decently sized screwable hole. . .

MISC: *from behind Clooney* Whatcha writin'?

CLOONEY: Gyaaah! How did you get here?

MISC: Well. . .

TWEEK: *who is behind Misc, getting some coffee* They're called FEET.

MISC: Oh yeah!

CLOONEY: That's not the point! Where's my crew?

*Goth enters the room with Skills/Carmichael on a chain, who is slobbering and chewing on anything that moves (or doesn't)*

GOTH: I got some good news and bad news for you. *gestures to Carmichael, who licks his chops*

CLOONEY: *smacks his fist on the table* DAMMIT!

SHAKEY: *walking in the door peeling a potato* GI! GI! When are we gonna get some clams, spud?

CLOONEY: That's it, I'm turinging this boat around. *Misc's eye flare open in horror, Tweek spits out her coffee, and Shakey cuts his finger*

SHAKEY: OW!. . . hey spuds! Kool Aid! *looks around and quickly sticks his finger in his mouth* Just kidding spuds. . . .

GOTH: *petting Carmichael's head* Now why would you want to do that, Clooney? You'll be the laughing stock of the community. You'll never get another job again. . . Don't you remember what happened after your last movie?*deadly* . . . and if you touch that radio, Carmicheal gets dessert.

CLOONEY: *stares at them a moment and sighs* Fine. Welcome aboard crew. First thing first, go ready the bait. *They all stare blankly at him and he rolls his eyes* Just get the hell out of here!

*They leave but Misc stays, smiling broadly at him*

MISC: Did you really wear form hugging rubber in-

CLOONEY: GET OUT!!!! *throws the radio at her as she ducks out the door, then realizes what he's done* SHIT!!!

*Misc walks out on the deck where her companions are playing rummy. All are now in short sleeve shirts and shorts, and Tweek sets down her hand*

MISC: *sitting down* What a grouch.

GOTH: *picking up a card*Any one would be the way you act. *poking Tweek* Hey, ya think you're pretty clever huh? Hands not over yet!

TWEEK: *whining* I want caffiene. . .

SHAKEY: GI! GI! Well, spud, you can't always get what you want. . . like when I tried to get Bela Lugosi's autograph with a stalk of celery. . .

MISC: Hey! I think he likes me!

GOTH: Yeah, I bet he loves cavities too.

MISC: You're just jealous. *pouts*

GOTH: *rolls eyes* Oh, yeah. I'm soooo jealous. You get the worst Batman in history.

MISC: Hey, I also got the underwear model!

TWEEK: Um, actually, he broke through the box when you fell asleep, and lockeed himself in a freezer.

MISC: *silence* . . . . DAMMIT!

SHAKEY: Spuds. . .

MISC: NOT NOW SHAKEY! *fuming* This always happens to me! That's it. I wanna kill some fish.

GOTH: Now I'm interested.

SHAKEY: Um, Spuds. . . .

TWEEK: What did the fishies ever do to you?

MISC: *gritting her teeth* Spawn.

GOTH: They did something?

*Carmichaela head perks up and stares at what Shakey's been pointing to the last few minutes. Finally, reason enters his eye again, and Carmichael is gone.*

SKILLS: *screaming* DUCK FOR COVER!!!

GOTH/TWEEK/MISC: HUH?

*They look up to see a sixty foot waves approaching the ship. All gasp.*

GOTH: Okay, okay, whoever's idea this was dies NOW.

TWEEK: *panicking* I don't think we'll have to worry about that now. Wheres some coffee?! EVERYONE DESERVES A LAST REQUEST!!!!!

MISC: *muttering* Damn you, Mark Wahlberg.

GOTH: *yawning uninterestedly* See y'all back in Hell.

SHAKEY: Yar.

SKILLS: Well, I'm not needed anymore. *throws his cape around himself, and dissapears. The rest sit around and blink in confusion.*

MISC: *going hysterical* He. . . he abandoned us. HE ABANDONED US!!!!

GOTH: Well, think about it. . . he can't revive all of us at sea. *stretches as the wave surges closer*

MISC: Man, this is my third time dying this week! *defiantly* Well, I'm not going down without something to show for it! *drags out her Nailbat, and runs back to the Captains quarters* Here Clooney, Clooney, Clooney. . .

TWEEK: *runs over to Shakey and latches onto him* Shakey. . . I've always wanted to tell you. . . that I. . . I. . .

SHAKEY: *in shock* GI?!

TWEEK: I think you owe me a can of Pringles. Remember that day you ate all the food at my house?

SHAKEY: *facefaults* Do we have to talk about this now, spud?

*There is a crash and a scream in the captains quarters. Goth starts humming the 'Ode to Joy'. The wave bears down on the tiny ship, and it is obliterated. The water surges downward in a spiral, all toilet like.*

*In Hell, in front of the Shin-Ra mansion, a void opens and spits Shakey, Goth, Tweek, and Misc onto the lawn. Misc snaps her fingers.*

MISC: *growling* Almost. . .

GOTH: And you're proud?

*Angrily Misc gets up and walks into the house, wringing out her soaked clothing.*

GOTH: *stretching* Well, whose on for some Goldeneye?

~FIN

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Author's note: Yeah, this one kind of tapered off from the original story at the end, but my eye hurts, and after awhile, the thought of this fanfic wasn't all that cool anymore. Though it did have good points, I really should've cast someone cuter as the captain. . . hmmmmm. . .

Away from stormy seas, matey!