The Accent-dental Tourists
A Beetlejuice fanfiction by
C. "Sparky" Read

(preview)

"I don't understand," Jacques was protesting. "Why must we go into such a revolting establishment?"

"This is where all the crustiest explorers in the Neitherworld hang out," Beetlejuice told the skeleton. "If there is anywhere in this rotten dimension of ours where accents are bought and sold, they'll know about it."

"But what if my accent wasn't stolen?" Jacques continued as Beetlejuice and Ginger pushed him into the Bilgewater Café. "What if it...went on a holiday?"

"Oh quit yakking," growled the ghost. "I'm getting really weirded out, having to listen to you talk normal."

"Beetlejuice!" hissed Ginger suddenly. "Isn't that Cap'n Kidder?"

Beetlejuice looked. Sure enough, Captain Kidder--his skeletal parrot on his shoulder--was leaning on the bar, trying out what had to be some of his worst material on a busboy.

"That's him all right," the ghost confirmed. "Hey!" he exclaimed suddenly. "Ole Kidder might know something. Come on." He dragged the others towards the bar.

"An' I said, 'My dog drinks nothin' but rubbin' alcohol!' Har har!" roared Captain Kidder, slapping the unfortunate busboy so hard on the back that empty ale glasses went flying in every direction. "What's with the straight faces?" demanded the pirate, peering disconsolately around at his impassive audience. "That one's a classic!"

"Um, excuse me, Mister Kidder," began Jacques politely.

Kidder whirled around. "Eh? Want my autograph, d'ya?" Before the skeleton could protest Kidder had whipped off Jacques' beret and was scribbling on it with a marker. "A'course y'do!"

"No thank you, Mister Kidder!" yelled Jacques, rescuing his beret and slapping it back on his skull. "I am only looking for information."

"Information?" Kidder rubbed his whiskers thoughtfully, glancing at Ed the parrot, who looked worried. "Ya mean...somethin' useful?"

"Cap'n Kidder, would you know anything about the theft and trade of accents?" Ginger broke in impatiently. "You know, like a black market?"

"Well, they barter tongues in Catmandu," the pirate told her. "But I always thought they were...you know...tongue tongues." He stuck his own tongue out as an illustration.

Beetlejuice grunted. "Yeah yeah, I know all about that," he said, shuddering at the memory of the time he was forced to 'borrow' the Monster Across the Street's tongue when his own was swiped by a catburglar from Catmandu. "So ya think they might trade 'tongues' as in languages and accents too?"

Kidder nodded. "Could be," said Ed.

"Mister Kidder, could you take us to Catmandu?" pleaded Jacques. "I must have my accent back!"

"Hey!" yelled Beetlejuice. "No way! I'm not going back to that place!"

"Beetlejuice," hissed Ginger warningly. Beetlejuice pouted.

"Well, let's see," mused Kidder. "Let me check my schedule." He pulled a little datebook with an adorable baby seal on the cover from his coat pocket and flipped through it. "Well now, you're in luck!" he shouted. "Looks like I'm free for half an eon!"

Beetlejuice rolled his eyes. "Swell."

Jacques was estatic. "Wonderful!" he cried. "When can we leave?"

"Soon as I assemble my crew," replied Kidder. He pulled a silver whistle from his pocket and blew it, hard. There was no sound.

Beetlejuice, Jacques, and Ginger blinked.

Suddenly three doglike men scrambled from all corners of the tavern to stand at panting attention in a row in front of Kidder.

"Gentlemen, lady, meet the Seadogs," announced Kidder proudly, gesturing at the three men. "These here are Rover, Bowser, and Spot."

"Sit!" yelled Beetlejuice, who couldn't resist. The three sailors immediately sat on the floor.

"Hey! Only I get to do that," said Kidder sulkily. "Up!" he told the dogs, who scrambled to their feet. "To the ship!" he commanded, and the Seadogs tore out of the tavern.

"I hope those mutts are deck-trained," grunted Beetlejuice as he, Jacques, and Ginger followed Kidder down the pier.

"Well, here it is," said Kidder, stopping in front of a modestly-sized brigantine. "The Tracker."

"Nice figurehead," said Jacques, peering at the snout-like bow of the ship.

"Had it custom-made in the Canid Isles," Kidder told him proudly. "Come aboard, now."


Back