Pickem tossed the rest of his fish at Bjorn’s chest.
It landed with a wet slap and slid down his leather armor leaving a greasy trail.
“Your idea of nice is fookin’ terrifying, eh?” Pickem’s voice was sharp and mocking.
“You just scared that poor girl into next week.”
Bjorn’s face scrunched up with genuine offense.
He looked genuinely hurt.
“What are you talking about? I’m the nicest person ever! I asked politely! I said please and everything!”
“You said ‘fetch me the last of the alcohol’ like you were ordering her to her execution!” Pickem hopped off the railing and landed on the deck.
His tiny fists were planted on his hips.
“That’s being a terrifying oaf who doesn’t understand how normal people talk!”
Bjorn’s cheeks flushed red.
His massive hands curled into fists at his sides.
“Take that back! I’m a very pleasant person! Everyone says so!”
“Who’s everyone? The people you’ve eaten?” Pickem was pacing now.
His small frame was vibrating with energy.
“Your face ain’t nice, that’s for sure! You look like someone dropped a boulder on a pile of shit and called it a man!”
Bjorn’s jaw dropped.
His voice came out as a wounded bellow.
“What did you say to me?”
“Oh, so you’re dumb AND deaf!” Pickem threw his arms up in exasperation.
“Jeeze, your mother should’ve swallowed you! Would’ve saved the world a lot of trouble!”
“NOW YOU TAKE THAT BACK!” Bjorn’s roar shook the rigging.
“OR ELSE WHAT, OAF?” Pickem was screaming now too.
His tiny voice was surprisingly loud for someone his size.
The crew had stopped working.
Every single person on both ships had frozen in place.
They were watching the confrontation with expressions that ranged from terrified to morbidly curious.
This was better than any entertainment they’d had in months.
Bjorn lunged.
His massive hand shot out to grab Pickem but the little man was already moving.
Pickem went full cat mode.
His body dropped low and he launched himself at Bjorn’s face.
His tiny hands were a blur of motion.
His nails raked across Bjorn’s cheeks leaving long red scratches that welled with blood.
“YOU LITTLE—” Bjorn’s hands flew up to his face and he caught Pickem by the ankle and yanked him free.
“PUT ME DOWN!” Pickem was thrashing like a child throwing a tantrum because he wasn’t given full access to the bleach on the top drawer.
His legs were kicking wildly and his arms were flailing in every direction.
Bjorn wound up like a pitcher, And hurled Pickem with all his strength.
The little man sailed through the air in a high arc.
He was heading straight for the water.
But Pickem wasn’t done yet.
He twisted his body mid-flight and grabbed onto the edge of a window on the cabin facing the water.
The glass shattered as he crashed through and tumbled into the room beyond.
Inside the cabin a woman was sleeping.
She was one of the servants who had been assigned to the nicer quarters.
Her eyes snapped open the moment the window exploded inward.
She saw a 2 foot tall man scrambling through the broken glass and she screamed.
“EEEEEE”
“SHUT UP!” Pickem was already on his feet.
He grabbed her clothes off the floor and threw them at her face.
“Cover up if you’re so startled! I don’t have time for this!”
He was out the door before she could even process what had happened.
His tiny legs carried him through the ship at super speed.
“SUPRISE MOTHERFUCKER!” (insert gif)
Pickem launched himself at the big man’s back.
His arms wrapped around Bjorn’s thick neck in a headlock.
He squeezed with all his might.
Bjorn didn’t even flinch.
His massive hand came up to pat Pickem on the head.
“Aww, that tickles.”
“TICKLES?!” Pickem’s voice was a shriek of indignation.
“I’M TRYING TO CHOKE YOU!”
Bjorn leaned backward.
His full weight fell toward the deck with Pickem trapped between his massive frame and the wooden planks.
The impact would have crushed anyone else.
But Pickem was already gone.
He had sensed the shift in weight and launched himself free just in time.
Bjorn hit the deck with a thunderous crash that shook the entire ship.
Pickem was already running.
His tiny hands grabbed a butter knife from a nearby table.
It was the only weapon he could find.
He charged at Bjorn with the knife held high like a sword.
“RAAAAAAH!” He stabbed the knife into Bjorn’s left arm.
The blade sank into the flesh and stopped against the muscle.
Bjorn looked down at it.
He looked at Pickem.
He didn’t react.
He didn’t even blink.
The knife was stuck in his arm like a splinter.
“Did you just stab me with a butter knife?”
Pickem tried to pull the knife free.
It wouldn’t budge.
“I DID!”
Bjorn grabbed him by the leg.
His massive hand wrapped around Pickem’s ankle and he hurled him upward.
Pickem shot through the air like a rocket and landed in the crow’s nest at the top of the mast.
He bounced off the wooden platform and tumbled over the edge.
But he caught himself.
His hands grabbed the rigging and he swung downward.
He was falling toward Bjorn’s head with the butter knife still in his grip.
He pointed it downward like a spear.
“YOUR HEAD IS MINE!”
Bjorn caught him again.
His hand closed around Pickem’s entire body and he hurled him with everything he had.
This wasn’t the same throw as before.
This time he activated Surge.
The calories in his body converted into explosive energy.
The throw sent Pickem flying across the gap between the two ships.
Pickem hit the sail of the other ship and broke his fall.
He slid down the canvas and landed on the deck in a heap.
He was alive.
He was pissed.
But then Bjorn came after him.
The big man was running.
His feet pounded against the deck of his own ship and he leaped across the gap.
He was almost 8 feet tall and weighed close to 400 pounds.
The distance between the ships was easily 30 feet.
He cleared it easily.
Surge was fully active now.
(yes every feat previously was in base)
He crashed through the sail of the second ship.
The canvas tore apart like wet paper.
He landed on the deck with a thunderous impact that made the whole ship shake.
His hand shot out and grabbed Pickem by the throat.
“ENOUGH!” Bjorn’s voice was a roar.
He lifted Pickem off the deck and held him at eye level.
His grip was crushing.
“I’m gonna—”
Pickem bit his hand.
His teeth sank into the flesh between Bjorn’s thumb and index finger.
Bjorn yelped in pain.
His grip loosened and Pickem dropped to the deck.
Blood was dripping from the wound.
Pickem grabbed the butter knife from where it had fallen.
He threw it with all his strength.
The blade spun through the air toward Bjorn’s eye.
Bjorn barely moved his head.
The knife sailed past his face and clattered against the mast.
He grabbed Pickem again.
His hand closed around the little man’s throat and he started choking him.
Pickem was still fighting.
His tiny fists were pounding against Bjorn’s arm.
“RAHH! lemme goo lemme go lemme goooo”
His legs were kicking wildly.
He was thrashing like a honey badger on ketamine.
He wasn’t going down without a fight.
Across the deck a cabin door opened.
Buck V Henderson stepped out with his charming smile firmly in place.
He had wiped the vomit off his chin and smoothed down his hair.
He looked like he hadn’t just spent the past 3 hours dry heaving into a bucket.
“I heard a commotion,” Buck said.
His voice was smooth and confident.
“Everything alright?”
He surveyed the scene.
Bjorn was choking Pickem.
Pickem was biting Bjorn’s other hand.
There was blood everywhere.
The sail was destroyed.
The window on the other ship was shattered.
It was absolute chaos.
Buck’s confident smile froze on his face.
His eyes went wide.
If Pickem and Bjorn killed each other then all the protection would be left to him.
He couldn’t fight.
He couldn’t protect anything becouse, as we have established already he was a fraud bitch.
He needed these two to carry him or he was completely fodder, no ussop.
He rushed over with his hands raised.
His voice came out as a desperate shout.
“STOP IT!” He tried to sound authoritative but his voice cracked.
“STOP IT… please?”
Bjorn looked up.
Pickem stopped thrashing.
They both stared at Buck with identical expressions of annoyance.
The silence stretched.
The crew was still watching.
Bjorn let Pickem go.
The little man dropped to the deck and immediately started brushing himself off.
He muttered something under his breath that sounded like a string of curses.
Bjorn was bleeding from a dozen small wounds.
His face was scratched.
His hand was bitten.
His arm still had a butter knife sticking out of it.
“I was just—” Bjorn started.
“Don’t even,” Pickem cut him off.
He was already walking toward the other ship.
“I don’t want to hear it. I need a drink.”
Bjorn yanked the butter knife out of his arm.
He tossed it aside and started walking too.
Their paths took them in opposite directions.
Buck watched them go.
He was still standing there with his hands raised and his expression a mix of relief and terror.
He had stopped them.
They hadn’t killed each other.
But they might start again at any moment.
He let out a long breath and leaned against the mast.
His legs were shaking.
His heart was pounding.
He needed to figure out how to keep these two from killing each other long enough to reach the continent.