Okay, yeah, they all drink, even though Jason, Tim, and Damian are underage, because they are PIRATES. I don't support underage drinking, this is just for the story. Don't drink and drive, kids. (I have no right to be giving advice because I'm underage too but oh well.)

Also, I know Jason doesn't have an eye patch in this picture, but pixlr, (the program I use) is messing up, so...)

And some chapters will be long, and some will be short.

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"GIVE ME THE GROG!!!"

"YOU DRANK HALF THE BOTTLE!!!"

"EXACTLY!!! I DIDN'T FINISH!!!"

Jason and Dick were arguing over, you guessed it, alcohol. Jason had drank half of it, leaving barely enough to share between the other three boys.

Damian snickered as he watched the exchange. Dick was holding the bottle away from Jason towards him. All he had to do was take it, and...

"YOU GET AWAY FROM ME GROG!!!" Jason roared, punching Damian in the face, sending him flying.

Tim laughed. "YOU GO JASON!!! PUNCH THAT SHORT LITTLE- WHAM!!" 

Damian had right hooked him. "SHORT!? I'M NOT SHORT!! I'M PERFECT!!"

Alfred walked down the stairs with a plate of cookies. (That he mysteriously made from seemingly no materials.) "Boys!" He yelled. "Time to eat!"

Immediately the four boys stopped arguing and ran to Alfred, taking handfuls of cookies and shoving them in their mouths. Alfred sighed.

"Couldn't you be less messy?" He asked. "I'm the one who has to swab all this."

"Sorry, Alfred." Dick said around a mouth of cookies. "But I'm going to have to say n- SON OF A BISCUIT EATER!!"

Jason had kicked him in the spine.

"THAT'S FOR TAKING MORE COOKIES THAN ME, YOU SCALLYWAG!!" He yelled.

"He seems *three sheets to the wind." Tim commented. 

"He's always like that." Damian contradicted.

"Do you have to disagree with everything I say!?"

"No."

"So you don't disagree?"

"No, I disagree."

Tim glared at him. "Why I should-"

"No, you shouldn't."

At that, Tim punched Damian in the face. "WOULD YOU SHUT YOUR PIEHOLE!?!?"

"Never!!" Damain cackled, running back towards Tim and punching him square in the nose.

Meanwhile, Dick and Jason were in the midst of a sword fight.

"Just  give me the freaking grog!!" Jason shouted.

"No way! You're gonna get hepatitus!!" Dick snapped, blocking Jason's uppercut slash, sparks flying from the two blades.

"Don't bring the dog into this!!"

Meanwhile, Bruce was in his quarters, looking at his maps. 

"Hmmm..." He muttered. "Let's see... the Supers were last seen in Metropolis port... so we should go there and try to cannon them!" He paused. "Oh wait, they were there two weeks ago... oh well! We'll take more stuff than them so we'll seem better! This plan cannot possibly fail!"

He walked out, and stopped as he saw his crew fighting like cats and dogs. He scowled.

"ALL HANDS ON DECK!!" He yelled, and instantly all four boys stopped, and whirled around to face him.

"What are you fighting about this time?" Bruce demanded.

"Dick won't let me drown my sorrows in grog!" Jason accused.

"Damian's being an annoying Gremlin!" Tim added. 

"So what've you been up to, Captain?" Dick asked.

"Just hanging out. Perfecting my brooding." Bruce replied. "And also making a plan to prove that we're better than the Supers."

"And what is the plan?" Damian inquired.

"We go to Metropolis Port and take more stuff than they did." 

There was silence, and then..

"THAT'S A GREAT PLAN!!"

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*three sheets to the wind- a phrase for being drunk.