Once upon a time, deep in the enchanted forests of Forestland, Sang Beruang was lying next to a log, wasted after a long night of booze. Suddenly out of the corner of a bush came out Sang Kancil, hopping and prancing ecstatically here and there with joyful abandon.

“Hey there, Beruang!” yelled Sang Kancil as he passed by. “Oh, look at you, you look so down and pale. Maybe you should stop your drinking habit and come join me in hopping around. That way you’ll be all happy and full of life, just like me!”

“Geez Kancil, you’re right!” exclaimed Sang Beruang, snapping out of his wasted condition. Maybe I should stop my drinking habit and join you!”

The now sober and full-spirited Sang Beruang joined Sang Kancil as they hopped together happily in the forest. They soon came upon Sang Musang, who was cowering inside a hole, shivering because of his drug addiction.

“Good day there, Musang!” yelled Sang Kancil as he, along with Sang Beruang, passed by. “Oh my goodness, just look at you, all shriveled up and shaky! Maybe you should stop doping on drugs and join me in hopping around. That way you’ll be all happy and full of life, just like me!”

“My god, you’re right Kancil!” exclaimed Sang Musang, coming out of the hole and ceasing to shiver. “Maybe I should stop my drug addiction and join you guys!”

The now clean and full spirited Sang Musang joined Sang Kancil and Sang Beruang as they hopped together happily in the forest. They soon came upon Sang Harimau, who was sitting under a tree puffing a bong.

“Hello there, Harimau!” yelled Sang Kancil as he, along with Sang Beruang and Sang Musang passed by. “Good lord, look at you, your face so lifeless and unhapp-“

Before Sang Kancil could finish his sentence, Sang Harimau roared with anger. “Leave me the fuck alone, you stupid fucktard!” roared Sang Harimau as he threw a large rock at Sang Kancil’s head. Sang Kancil yelped in pain as he ran away, disappearing into the depths of the brush and canopies of the forest.

Sang Beruang and Sang Musang were bewildered, at the same time disappointed at Sang Harimau’s negative attitude. “Why did you treat Kancil like that, Harimau?” growled Sang Beruang. “All he wanted was to make us all happy!”

“Yeah, Harimau,” added Sang Musang. “Kancil was just trying to help us overcoming our habits. Why did you have to act like an asshole?”

“Humph,” grunted Sang Harimau as he continued to smoke his bong. “Whenever that bastard Kancil gets high on weed, he’ll always hop around the forest telling people to join him.”

It was a lively and sunny day in Forestland whenThe King of Forestland, Sang Singa, held a mass meeting with all the animals in the forest to discuss about a certain issue. The crowd was packed, from small creatures like birds and woodland creatures to huge beasts such as bears and crocodiles.

“Greetings, my animal friends and loyal subjects,” Sang Singa spoke to his audience as he stood on the podium-shaped rock. “Today we have a matter of great urgency to discuss.”

The ranks of animals in front of him murmured amongst themselves as Sang Singa cleared his throat. “For the last week, I’ve had talks with Gajah, our Minister of Energy and Animal Resources, and we’ve decided that, due to the fresh water crisis, we will have to increase the price of fresh water up to 6.5 Acorns per litre.”

After the announcement, loud gasps reverberated throughout the crowd, followed by unanimous boos and yells. Soon the crowd erupted into a state of anger and dissatisfaction, with insults to Sang Singa being heard from the far rear ranks.

“Now now, I know that this doesn’t bode well with all of you,” said Sang Singa, trying to calm the crowd. “But the short supply of fresh water still remains a problem, and we all must do our part by adjusting our lifestyle to accommodate the new circumstances. For example, whenever you want to pee, you should find a split coconut shell and pee in it. That way you can drink it up the next time you feel thirsty, thus conserving fresh water for me to wash my furry ass after I take a crap.”

By now, all the animals were in rage. The monkeys were howling like mad while the elephants stomped the ground, their trunks thundering derogatory remarks at Sang Singa.

“As King of Forestland, I too have to make sacrifices,” continued Sang Singa. “For example, I was planning to turn Forestland’s one and only waterfall into my own personal fun lagoon, but since we’re having a fresh water crisis, I’ve opted for the estuary instead. As you can see even I have to struggle during this difficult tim-“

Before Sang Singa could finish his sentence, a coconut, thown by an enraged monkey, flew right towrads Sang Singa’s head, knocking him unconscious. By this time, all the animals were roaring and growling as they thrashed the whole place in a fit of angry protest. Two baboon bodyguards dragged Sang Singa out of the fray while the badger riot squad rushed in with their sticks to suppress the growing riot.

And so all the animals of Forestland lived happily ever after.

Will Turner scratched his head in confusion, a part of his mind straining to comprehend what Jack Sparrow had just said. Both of them stood on the Black Pearl, the chilling wind of the night piercing into the skin of the busy crew on board the pirate ship.

“I did it, Mr. Turner,’ the enigmatic captain Jack Sparrow said waving a rolled parchment in one hand and a bottle of rum in another. “I’ve finally broken the code!”

“Jack,” Will retorted, his eyes staring hard into Jack’s, trying not to be distracted by his odd posture and movement resembling a drunken trapeze monkey. “It’s just a piece of aged cloth with an image of a key stained onto one side.”

“Aye, of course it does seem to look that way,” replied Jack as they both walked along the port side baluster discussing about the mysterious parchment. “But to a keen pirate’s eye, this here that I hold in my hands reveals the truth, Jack. The single, most absolute truth.”

Jack lifted the bottle of rum he was holding on his hand and took a sip. He then put aside the rum to unroll the aged parchment, the bottle placed on the baluster.

“Look here, Mr. Turner,” said Jack Sparrow. “As you know, this image is clearly the image of a key.”

“Um, yes,” Will Turner replied, the look of confusion forming on his face. “I guess that seems…so.”

“What wasn’t apparent to you, Mr. Turner, is this key right here has a symbolic meaning to it. You see, I’m not only Captain Jack Sparrow, world renowned pirate of the seven seas and captain of the Black Pearl. I’m also Dr. Jack Sparrow, renowned cryptologist with a Ph. D in Pirate Symbolisms.

Will Turner could feel something throbbing in his forehead, the mental pain that a person would usually feel if he or she had just heard a really stupid claim made by somebody who is batshit insane. In this case, a really drunk pirate.

“Ugh, Jack, I think you’ve just had about enough of rum for one day.” Will Turner said as he reached for the bottle on the baluster.

“No, don’t touch the rum!” Jack Sparrow was quick to reply, his hands quicker in intercepting Will Turner’s hands. However his careless haste caused him to accidentally knock the rum bottle off the baluster and into the Caribbean sea bellow. The bottle floated idly for a while before a large enough wave swept it up against the port side hull, smashing the bottle into pieces.

“Argggghh,” Jack Sparrow cursed, at the same time trying to sound like a real pirate. “Rum isn’t easy to come by these days, and our stocks are low. I just hope there’s a Seven Eleven once we’ve reached Singaporean shores. Also I don’t actually know what a Seven Eleven is. I just felt like saying it as if the word makes much sense to me just now.”

Jack Sparrow’s face suddenly lit up, as if he had just remembered something. He then continued to reach down into his underpants and pulled out another bottle of rum from his crotch. Will Turner was as much awed as he was disgusted at his friend’s disturbing obsession for rum, at the same time wondering what sort of vile taste that would come out of a rum that was crotch-brewed for at least an hour.

“You’re sick as shit, Jack. You know that right?” Will Turner saw Jack Sparrow taking a gulp from the bottle, and instantly he felt something coming up his throat and felt like puking off the baluster into the sea. He restrained himself from doing so.

“Now, back to the symbolic parchment.” Jack Sparrow said as he wiped the rum off his mouth with his sleeve. “Now Mr. Turner, let me ask you a question. What does an image of a key on an aged piece of cloth symbolizes?”

“I have no idea, Jack. I have no idea what the fuck it symbolizes. I don’t even know what in bloody hell the word ‘fuck’ means. I just felt like saying it, as if it’s the most natural thing to come out of my mouth in my fucked-up state of mind.”

“Of course you don’t know, because you’re not a Ph. D certified cryptologist like me. But I can say this, Mr. Turner, that the key here which lies in my hands is the key which opens what all pirates treasure most. Care to take a guess at what that is, Mr. Turner?”

Will Turner scratched his head for a while, thinking up possible and logical answers for Jack Sparrow’s probably pointless and inane question. “A treasure chest, I guess, or maybe even loot?”

“Nooooooooooooo!” Jack Sparrow shouted into Will Turner’s ear. “The one thing, Mr. Turner, THE very absolute one thing that ALL pirates treasure the most is…”

Jack Sparrow paused to give dramatic effect.

“…pussy, Mr. Turner, and this key is to open the chastity belt worn by of a hot, voluptuous and very repressed virgin lady somewhere.”

That pain in his forehead again. Will Turner could feel the veins in his temple bulging at the sheer intensity of stupid he had just heard. “That is…it’s…wow…Jack, I never knew you’re so fucked up. And again, I still don’t know what ‘fucked’ is.

“But that’s not all, Mr. Turner,” Jack continued on his explanation. “You see that this key has twin shafts, and the word ‘key’ has the initial ‘k’. So this means this key leads to the glorious pussy of a lady whose name bears the initials ‘KK'.

"What in the bloody hel are you talking abou-"

"And since there's a small hole on the helm of the key, this combined with the twin shafts would mean that this lady likes to have it in the ass and in the pussy at the same time."

Will Turner was now convinced that his friend was insane. “And who might this girl be, Jack? Your mom?”

“No, my dear sarcastic Mr. Turner. Not at all. The only lady name that I can come up with that has the initials of KK is…’

Jack paused again. The moment was the climax, the suspense building up from the point they found the parchment to this moment of undeniable truth. The crew on the birds nest drummed on the wood to make the stage effect of a drum roll towards a climaxing event.

“…Kiera Knightly. Mr. Turner, this key belongs to the chastity belt worn by Kiera Knightly, the bisexual lady!”

Both of them stood silent at Jack Sparrow’s revelation, one of them couldn’t comprehend what he had just said while the other couldn’t believe how insanely stupid his friend was.

“Well then,” Jack Sparrow said, snapping out of the silence. “Now that we know which pussy this key belongs to, we should start looking for her then!”

Will Turner didn’t answer. He knew that whatever answer he would give will just add into Jack Sparrow’s pool of dumb thoughts.

“Ahoi, mateys!” Jack Sparrow shouted toward his crew on deck. “We shall have ourselves some pussy!” The whole crew shouted cheerfully.

“Now, let us set sail towards Americaland,” jack Sparrow continued. “I heard that’s where all the best pussies come from. Pussies and threesomes here I come!”

“Fuck you, Jack” Will Turner uttered. “And for some reason, saying that felt so much satisfying.”

THE END.