Early the next morning, back out at sea, the loud clanging of a bell jerked Boomhauer rudely from his sleep. Grunting in surprise, he spilled out of his below deck hammock. Around him, his shipmates crawled more easily from their sleeping places, being used to the noise.

After a quick morning routine the crew assembled on deck. Boomhauer noticed how there was hardly any light. Why, they must have only gotten three hours of sleep, tops!

"Hey man why we got-get up s'dang early man?" Boomhauer mumbled drowsily, "Mm talkin' 'bout-sore muscles man, workin' all yesterday dang ol'-tired man..!"

The blonde man next to him wearing a blue bandana and a red waist sash heard him. Turning to talk he whispered cautiously, "That's how it always is under Captain Herschel. Twenty one hour days, back-breaking labor, insane demands. We hate him!" He glanced around before continuing, "That's why we're plotting a mutiny. In fact, it's scheduled to go off today. Now, you've only gotten a taste of our misery, but how'd you like to help?"

Boomhauer was taken aback by the offer.

"I dunno man, talkin' 'bout dang ol'-know nothin' 'bout mutiny man." he shrugged, hoping to be dubbed unworthy.

"All you have to do is attack stuff and beat up the captain! How hard is that?" asked the man incredulously, "Come on, we need all the help we can get. And if you help, we'll even make it our top priority to get you back where you came from."

Boomhauer looked at the man's sly grin, and felt that familiar feeling of being cornered. Not seeing a way to avoid being drafted, or a faster way home, he sighed and nodded in submission.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Above deck in the crow's nest, the sun now high enough to glare in his eyes, Boomhauer scrubbed away at the bird poo caked onto the wood. Being a swabbie wasn't the best job in the world, he'd noted.

He looked down for a moment, and saw the pirates slowing down, dropping what they were doing and exchanging nods. Boomhauer knew it was time for the mutiny.

BANG! A gun went off near the sprit of the ship.

Boomhauer flinched, then ducked under the lip of the crow's nest as the ship erupted beneath him, shouts and people everywhere. Maybe, he thought, he could avoid the whole thing if he just layed low. Or high, as the case may be.

Below, he heard Captain Herschel burst from his quarters, roaring, and began to fire blanks left and right. The people he aimed at cried out in melodramatic pain, then fell to the deck, their characters spent. Once out of guns, Herschel pulled out his rapiers. Pretend stabbing anyone who came near him, he backed up the stairs to the steering wheel to gain an uphill advantage.

"Come, ye sea dogs!" he called, "Come, and have at you!"

Several revolters came forth to try and knock him down. After a brief, slow and fake looking swordfight, every opponent dropped back down, creating a small pile of 'dead' bodies.

"Topple the mizzen mast!" shouted someone, "Crush him!" He was met with a rally of cheers, and with his eyes widened, Boomhauer realized that the mizzen mast was the one he was sitting in!

As his perch began jerking to and fro, Boomhauer staggered to pull his head over the edge of the crow's nest. He managed to stand, and leaned over towards the pirates attacking the mast's base.

"Talkin' 'bout dang ol'-WHOAH man..!" he tried yelling to them, but he was too quiet, and they continued their onslaught.

The mast jerked suddenly the wrong way, and Boomhauer found himself tossed from the tiny look-out. His hands grabbed wildly as he spilled from it, and managed to find a rope from one of the sails before he fell far at all. He was about to sigh in relief, but just then the pulley system went into action, sending him plummeting once more. The sudden action also caused the rope to snap, turning Boomhauer's plummet into a swing.

He had the crew's attention now…screaming as loudly as he got, Boomhauer swung directly for Captain Herschel, quite unintentionally, and looking very much like a scene from the movie classic, Peter Pan. The only difference being that his scream was from horror, not confidence.

He closed his eyes bracingly as he collided with the captain. The two went down behind the helm, and the rope went slack. The crew waited with bated breath to see who would arise victorious.

After a moment, a back clothed in white emerged over the wheel, closely followed by a groaning Boomhauer who was rubbing his head. He felt something in his other hand, and brought it up to see what it was. His eyebrows raised as the ship's crew erupted into a wave of cheers. Boomhauer was holding Captain Herschel's hat! He looked down at the unconscious man, then at the crew. The crew slowly stopped cheering, and instead started up a chant of 'Hail ye, new captain!'

Glancing again from hat to crew, Boomhauer sighed, shrugged, then placed the hat on his head.

"Dang ol' talkin' 'bout-to Arlen man!" he called in his best commanding voice, one finger pointing over the waters.

The pirates exchanged glances, but then scattered to obey.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

The schooner pulled up along the beach Boomhauer had first washed away from. Being too large to actually pull up to it, the ship floated a couple hundred feet offshore.

"What the-?" noted a pirate, "Hey, this place doesn't even seem pillagable! What's goin' on here?"

Boomhauer walked down the stern's steps and came to the side rail.

"'S the way t' dang ol' Arlen man talkin' 'bout-where I come from. Dang ol' that guy said comin'd be mm top priority man." he explained, pointing to the man he'd talked to that morning.

The crew turned as one to glare at the man.

"Well that was before I knew he'd be the new captain, now wasn't it?" the man said indignantly.

"Well a ship has to have a captain!" a woman pirate stated, "If we let him go then who's left?"

Snarls of consent rose up at that.

"I vote we mutiny again!" input someone.

"Aye! And toss 'em both off! Windle deserves it just as much."

Roars of agreement. Boomhauer and the man he'd pointed out were cornered. Someone took the hat from Boomhauer's head, and then the both of them were grabbed by several pairs of arms. The two were lifted up, swung a couple of times, then heaved over the schooner's side.

Down, down they fell, before landing with a large splash in the water. After resurfacing and catching their breath, the two turned and swam for shore. Behind them the crew yelled and whistled victoriously. By the time Boomhauer and the man called Windle reached the shore and looked back, the schooner was headed off over the horizon.

"I believe I've just been expelled." Windle observed, his accent changing from British to American. He sighed and attempted to straighten his sodden clothes. "Well I suppose this leaves me free to do that cereal commercial in Austin I wanted to. That acting club takes up way too much time, I tell ya." He gave his shirt a final shake and turned to leave.

"You got a dang ol'-car man?" Boomhauer asked, both surprised and hopeful.

Turning back, Windle gasped, "What?! No, I'm an actor, not a lawyer. I don't even own my soul! Nah, I'll just hitchhike where I need to go. That or hijack a bus 'r somethin'."

Boomhauer blanched slightly, then waved off, "Uh ok man then talkin' dang ol'-bye man..!"

Windle rolled his eyes, shook his head and walked off. Boomhauer let out a breath of relief, glad Windle hadn't asked him to assist in a hijacking 'or something'.

However, deciding that hitchhiking seemed the fastest way home, Boomhauer made his way to the road, where it wasn't long until a teenager-filled convertible picked him up.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Boomhauer smiled and waved thanks as the teenagers pulled away from his driveway. Now quite ready for a nap, he turned to go to the house and saw his overturned garbage cans. He gripped his temples and groaned, but walked over to them. He started to straighten them out, then suddenly noticed some weird noises coming from across the street. He looked up, but saw nothing. Looking first to his trash, then to the source of the noises and then to his house, his face became weary.

"Dang ol'-sort out all this noise an' like tomorrow man talkin'-got t' get some dang ol' sleep 'fore I get all-talkin' wrapped up in shenanigans man..!" he groaned, and waved off his garbage and the noise in a 'pfeh' manner. He walked into his house to get some much needed post-adventure rest, and to change out of that dang poofy pirate outfit!

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

"I think we're almost there!" Bill exclaimed, "Boy I can't wait."

"We'd probably be there already if some of us hadn't overslept Bill, Hank and Bobby." Dale accused, "At least Peggy seems to be taking this seriously."

"Ugh, I don't think that midnight to five AM is the proper timeslot for sleep." Hank scoffed.

"It is when you're on a mission..!" retorted Dale.

Just then a 'thunk' came from behind them as Peggy's shovel made contact with something solid. The group came forward interestedly as she brushed off the obstacle, revealing a flat, gray surface.

Peggy gasped happily. "We've made it."

"Then stand back." said Dale as he came forward, pulling a bottle from his pocket. "This stuff even gets near your eye and you'll never see again. Or have eyes for that matter."

Peggy stepped back.

Dale pulled the top from the bottle, which turned out to also be a dropper. He applied a couple squirts of the bottle's contents to the basement floor, and then stood back, smiling, as a large hole came to be with a hiss. Then Dale pulled some folded cloth from another pocket, flapped it open, and covered part of the hole's rim before hoisting himself up through it.

"We're in." he informed coolly.

As she prepared to follow, Peggy noted, "You sure are prepared, huh?"

"Is there another way to be?" returned Dale before helping Peggy through the hole.

As Hank came forward he sighed sadly. "A perfectly good cement flooring, ruined. Terrible. Just terrible."

He was ignored and yanked through the hole by four arms.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

"Ok, let's make this a total blitzkrieg. No less than five minutes. Peggy, you take the kitchen. Hank, you take attic. Bill, bedrooms, and Bobby, you get whatever's left." Dale assigned the group crouching at the basement door. They nodded, and Dale continued, "Flush 'em into the living room, where I will be waiting with the rope and sleep gas. Ready?"

Before anyone, most likely Hank, could object to anything, Dale burst through the door shouting "S'go!" and the team dispersed throughout the house. In no time, the shrieks and Laos curses of the Souphanousinphones rang through the house as they saw their home infested with hillbillies.

Crashes came rapidly as Minh threw projectiles at Bill, who'd found her. Bill ran from Minh, who pursued mercilessly, into the assigned meeting room. He dove behind the sofa as Kahn emerged from another entrance, engaged in an intense mop-and-broom fight with Peggy.

"Ahhh! More hillbillies!" Minh shouted, enraged. She lunged forward, ready to break Peggy's skull open with a vase, but Dale sprang from behind her and pinned her arms with rope.

Minh gasped. "Gribble! I should have known you behind this! Untie me right now you stupid redneck, so I can break your stupid red neck!"

"Sorry, no can do." Dale answered. He finished his last knot and gently shoved her onto the couch, where she spat very rude sounding Laos at him. Bill scrambled to hide elsewhere.

Bobby and Hank entered the room from their respected areas.

"Connie doesn't seem to be here." Bobby announced, a hint of relief in his voice, "I've checked every room I can think of. Nothin'."

"That's alright, just means less trouble." Dale assured, then cheered to Peggy, "Woohoo, yeah! Knock him down, s'go, s'go!"

Hank stared in shock at the fierce battle before him. Shaking his head sharply he demanded, "Peggy?? What in the hell're you doin'?! That is not the proper use of a cleaning implement..!"

Not looking at him, practically spitting fire, Peggy cried out with each smack of wood on wood, "I know that! I'm..trying..to..win..us..what..we..came for!!"

With one last wide, wild swing, she robbed Kahn of his mop and sent him backwards over the couch arm. Hank winced and Dale whooped in appraisal before rushing forward to secure the angry man. Once finished, he straightened and pointed to the kitchen, exclaiming, "Out of the room, quick!"

The group hustled to comply, and Dale hurriedly pulled the pin from a black grenade-resembling thing pulled from yet another pocket. He threw the already leaking piece from him in fear, and then quickly joined the others in the kitchen.

"Made it myself. Chloroform bomb." he responded to the questioning faces with a smile and a thumbs-up.

"Does that mean it's safe to come out?" Bill's voice came from under the table, and his head peeked out cautiously.

Loud coughing came from the living room, followed by a 'thud' as one of the Souphanousinphones fell from the couch, and an eerie silence.

"Yes Bill, it is safe to come out now." Peggy said warmly, and Bill smiled and stood up next to his teammates.

A silence thick as soup ensued as they basked in what they had just done.

"..Wow." Bill said at last, to which Bobby nodded and agreed, "Wow."

Dale gasped in sudden shock. "Oh my god I just realized!"

"What? What?! Did we forget something?" Peggy asked frantically.

"No! I just realized that this the first time, like ever, that one my schemes has actually worked! Usually some unforeseen event, or Hank, stops me before I can really get anywhere."

Hank scowled at the remark, but stayed silent. Dale went on.

"This calls for celebration!" he beamed, "Raid the fridge, crank that hard earned A/C to maximum! Warp factor nine, people, full speed ahead!"

Everyone but Hank cheered and spread out. Hank raised an eyebrow at Dale.

"You watch 'Star Trek'?" he inquired.

"Eh. Research." Dale shrugged, and lit a cigarette. He didn't elaborate, but as the shot faded to black he did add, "Hope they don't call the cops when they wake up.."

"Guh!" Hank exclaimed, previously not realizing that danger.