Jango's Fuck Carnival [pt. I]

That Evening.

Jango’s whole week had been rotten, not in one clean dramatic collapse, but in a string of almosts and almost-hads that kept turning sweet in his mouth for one second and sour the next.

First there had been Captain Kuro’s grand retirement scheme at Syrup Village, and on paper that should have been perfect: the brothel village of the East Blue, the sort of place where a man like him ought to have been able to walk the lanes with a grin and come away dizzy, drained, and followed by a fresh Moon-flower or three. Instead Kuro, paranoid skinny overly intelligent and planned bastard that he was, had the Welcome House shuttered up tight as part of his stupid long game, shut down an entire garden of happy whores, and somehow turned paradise into paperwork.

Then the Straw Hats smashed the plan to pieces, the Black Cats got beaten flat, and Jango woke up sore, humiliated, and left behind like a dropped prop after the curtain closed. Then those little brats had chased him off the island and not that he was afraid of a trio of tikes but he wasn’t messing around if Yasopp really was their ‘Great Captain’. Senior Officer of the Red Hair Pirates? No thank you.

But then the currents took him right to Mirror Ball Island, and that had looked like fortune finally remembering his name: a dance-fuck city after his own heart, where the streets pulsed with music, women rode cock on porches while gossiping over tea, shop girls bounced on customers between sales, and half the damn island seemed to treat rhythm and sex as twin parts of ordinary civic life.

Of course the wanted posters had gotten there ahead of him. Of course he had to disguise himself. Still, he had made something of it, hadn’t he? He had slipped into a real damn dance contest, danced his gorgeous striped ass off, narrowly taken first place, trophy in hand, and found himself laughing and sweating beside a dance bro so sharp, so smooth, so gloriously close to his own level that for one stupid glowing stretch of afternoon Jango had almost believed the week had turned.

Then Fullbody turned out to be a Marine. Naturally. But he’d managed to slip away without being found out. So Jango had done what any wounded artist with a bounty on his head, a hard cock in his pants, and a heart full of spite would do: he’d drifted into a tavern called Pirate’s Bar, found some sweet local pussy to ride the frustration out of him, and just as he was finally starting to think the day might be salvageable after all, more Marines had burst in and immediately clocked him.

Luffy paused along the broad thoroughfare and turned and watched the funny looking fellow run past.

“Huh? Wasn’t that Jango?

“Yea…” agreed Ussop just as a few squads worth Marines charged past, “Looks like the Marines are after him… Serves him right.”

Nami gestured back forward, “Let’s just get going before we get involved somehow, okay?”

Sanji was quick to follow her as she started walking, “You’re so right, Nami-san.”

Zoro went along with them laconically while Luffy remained in place watching after the shouting crowd of Marines.

One Marine in back stopped and turned back their way while pulling out a piece of paper from his pocket.

He held up Luffy’s wanted poster beside Luffy’s staring figure.

A minute later the Straw Hats were being chased by their own crowd of Marines.

Somehow despite starting in differing directions, the pandemonium of the perpetually partying city and its confusing warren of winding streets and plazas brought the two pursuits running parallel through neighboring streets, separated by awnings, balconies, and one canal’s worth of glowing nightlife. Jango flashed past an alley mouth and saw, across the gap, five familiar idiots sprinting their own way through Mirror Ball’s evening chaos. Luffy noticed too and pointed mid-run.

“Hey! Jango’s over there!”

“Don’t wave at him!” Nami shouted, because of course Luffy waved at him.

Then the streets curved apart and they lost each other completely.

Mirror Ball Island at full festival pitch was already half out of its mind even without a hypnotist in motion. Tsujo’s little normality twist had sunk so deep into the island’s civic bloodstream that tonight’s Dance Sex Carnival no longer felt transgressive to anyone living it. It felt expected. Traditional. Healthy, even. The avenues rolled with music and moans. Porches held couples and trios working at each other lazily between drinks. Window displays showed silk masks, oils, ribbons, and hand-painted signs advertising the best viewing balconies if you preferred to spectate instead of join. Local women in little more than stockings and perfume chatted with merchants while seated on cocks. Men leaned back in chairs getting sucked off with all the casual comfort of having their boots shined.

Sanji was practically weeping tears of blood from his nose as he ran.

"It's heaven! It's the All Blue!" the cook wailed, his powerful legs churning like pistons as he was **** to sprint past a patio where three women were flawlessly synchronizing a blowjob to a heavy bass drop. "Why must we run?! Let the Marines take me! Let me die in this glorious, sticky paradise!"

"Keep moving, you idiot!" Zoro barked, the swordsman scowled, completely disgusted by the sheer volume of thrusting flesh obstructing his path. He took a sharp right, charging up a steeply terraced staircase. "This way! We can lose them in the upper tier!"

The geography of Mirror Ball Island gave them no other choice. Because the city was built into the bottom of a massive, cracked rocky sphere, the outer districts didn't spread outward, they climbed. As the Straw Hats scrambled higher, pulling themselves from balcony to rooftop, they hit the mountain walls that ringed three sides of the city bowl.

"Almost there!" Usopp panted, pointing up a steep, winding staircase that snaked between a row of stacked, vertical apartments.

"Almost where?!" scoffed Nami, well aware they were running without a hope or a plan.

Zoro, Nami, Sanji, and Usopp sprinted up the steps, their boots pounding against the stone as they squeezed past a local couple rhythmically fucking right on a doorstep and ducked under a half-naked woman moaning to the beat out of a second-story window. They hit the upper landing and took a sharp left, expecting a stone bridge to carry them over to the next block. But the street didn't continue. It abruptly vanished. Long ago, the path had simply fallen away into the abyss of the city bowl, leaving a sudden, terrifying drop-off that the locals had turned into a scenic lookout.

"Woah!" Zoro yelled, digging his heels into the stone. Nami shrieked, windmilling her arms, while Sanji grabbed Usopp by the suspenders, the four of them screeching to a chaotic halt just inches from the sheer, terrifying drop into empty air.

"We made it!" Luffy cheered from behind them, completely oblivious to the missing street.
"Luffy, STOP!" Nami screamed.

But Luffy simply barreled forward at full sprinting speed. He slammed directly into Zoro's back, a grinning rubber cannonball of momentum. The impact launched all five of them over the edge, their screams echoing out into the vast, cavernous air of the island's central dome.

Meanwhile, completely isolated from the chaos, the Buggy Pirates were thriving in the degeneracy.

In a velvet-lined amphitheater near the harbor, Buggy the Clown sat in a private box, raptly watching a highly dramatic pirate play. The actors were heavily armed, fiercely delivering monologues of grand ambition, and routinely interrupting their sword fights for highly choreographed, rhythmic group orgies.

Buggy, however, was completely ignoring the writhing, moaning bodies on stage. His hands gripped the railing, tears of pure, spiteful rage streaming down his painted face as he watched the play's hero hesitate to claim the ultimate treasure, backing out of a promise to his sworn brother.

"YOU COWARD!" Buggy screamed, hurling a handful of popcorn at the stage, projecting two decades of shattered dreams and red-haired betrayal onto the poor, confused actor. "He believed in you! He bet his entire dream on you, and you just backpedaled! You took his map, you took his DREAM, and you shattered his faith! I'LL KILL YOU! I'LL TEAR YOUR STUPID STRAW HAT TO SHREDS!"

He fell back into his seat, openly sobbing and blowing his large red nose into his cape. "It’s a masterpiece of tragic betrayal!"

Two blocks over, Cabaji was riding his unicycle through a plaza, his checkered scarf pulled up over his nose in a **** attempt to maintain his brooding, edgy aura while utterly ignoring the fact that a woman was enthusiastically riding a fruit vendor's face right next to him. Mohji trotted beside him on Richie the lion, happily munching on a skewer of meat.

A few tiers up, seated at an incredibly expensive open-air restaurant overlooking the central plaza, Tsujo and Alvida were enjoying a lavish dinner. Alvida, glowing and pristine and mostly naked, was elegantly slicing into a seared sea king steak. She didn't bat an eye at the sommelier, who was currently bent over the wine cart getting rhythmically railed by the maître d' to the tempo of the live jazz band.

Tsujo lounged across from her, his shirt half-buttoned, swirling a glass of wine with a thoroughly satisfied smirk. He was currently enjoying the perfect balcony view of the sprawling, neon-soaked bowl of the city.

Down in the lower city, Jango was running out of road.

He burst out of a neon alley and sprinted straight into the absolute heart of the island: Mirror Ball’s central plaza. It looked less like a normal town square and more like a dance hall blown up to city size, packed wall-to-wall with tens of thousands of sexy locals. They were decked out in a wild, eye-popping mix of tropical beachwear and high-gloss techno rave gear: neon board shorts, glowing leis, metallic bikinis, platform boots, and sheer mesh tops.

And thanks to Tsujo's lingering normality, the entire massive sea of people weren't just dancing; they were seamlessly, rhythmically fucking. Couples, triads, and massive, sweaty polycules were grinding, sucking, and railing each other in perfect, synchronized time to the booming bass, turning the plaza floor into a pulsating ocean of ecstatic flesh beneath the great domed roof. At the far end stood a huge circular stage-front painted in loud, gaudy colors, backed by a towering clock tower that anchored the massive space and had yet another giant backstop to the stage declaring this year’s dance theme in bright colors and glowing lights: Funky Style.

Golden pillars ringed the vast central plaza and dance floor. They rose from the edges of the square, curving upward for nearly four stories before ending in small, round platforms with railings around the top. They were elevated dancer’s perches, high enough for anyone standing on them to be seen by the tens of thousands of people writhing and dancing below.

And hanging from the very highest point of the dome, casting long spokes of fractured light across the night, was the island's massive, glittering silver sun: the Mirror Ball.

"Stop right there, Jango the Hypnotist!" the Marine sergeant roared, his squad pouring into the plaza behind him, broad as a wardrobe and shirtless for reasons Jango neither knew nor respected, with spiky blond hair jutting up like a starburst and a torso built out of slabs, cords, and hard cuts of muscle that flashed with sweat under the lantern light.

Jango seamlessly moonwalked out of the way of a thrown net, spinning past a local couple who were vigorously fucking against a water fountain. Jango tipped his hat without missing a beat, his eyes frantically scanning the plaza.

I can't lose them in this crowd, Jango thought frantically, his heart hammering against his ribs. Too many people! Too much... rhythm! I need an audience. I need a broadcast.

His eyes locked onto one of the towering golden pillars. At the top of one of them, a heavily pierced and dark-skinned DJ/announcer was hyping up the crowd through a massive, island-wide speaker system, his hands spinning dials while a woman eagerly sucked his cock.

"Perfect," Jango muttered. He sprinted for the base of the pillar and began to rapidly scale the ladder at its base, his long legs kicking him upward just as the Marines reached the bottom.

High above, the Straw Hats were plummeting through the air.

"WE'RE GONNA DIIIIIE!" Usopp wailed, flailing wildly as the neon lights of the plaza rushed up to meet them.

"GUM-GUM..." Luffy shouted, sucking in a massive improbable lungful of air as he positioned himself right below his falling crewmates. "...BALLOON!"

Luffy's torso inflated to the size of a parade float just as he slammed into the massive, silver curvature of the giant mirror ball suspended in the center of the dome and they bounced off him.

BOOOOOONG! The impact was deafening. Luffy's rubber body absorbed the kinetic energy, violently rebounding the entire crew off the silver glass. But the sheer **** of five pirates slamming into it sent the colossal mirror ball wildly off-axis. The massive silver sun began to swing on its heavy chains like a colossal, glittering pendulum, sending dizzying, sweeping shards of light racing across the entire plaza and the faces of the thousands of people below.

"Hang on!" Zoro yelled as they plummeted away from the ball and hurtled toward the hard cobblestones of the plaza floor.

"GUM-GUM..." Luffy deflated and instantly sucked in another massive gulp of air. "...BALLOON!"

He expanded again, hitting the plaza floor with a massive SQUELCH of rubber, safely catching Zoro, Sanji, Usopp, and Nami on his inflated belly before violently deflating, leaving the five of them in a tangled, groaning heap right in the center of the dance floor.

High up on the golden pillar, Jango vaulted over the side and onto the top. He delivered a swift, rhythmic kick to the DJ's back, knocking him aside, and smoothly grabbed the live microphone before the announcer even hit the floor. The blowjob giving woman gasped, but Jango just offered her a sharp, toothy grin.

He stood up, looking out over the sprawling plaza. The Marines were converging on the Straw Hats in the center. The Buggy Pirates were scattered through the nearby districts, though Tsujo and Alvida watched the sudden commotion from their open-air restaurant terrace. And directly above them all, the colossal mirror ball was swinging back and forth, back and forth, scattering perfectly rhythmic waves of light across the eyes of every single person under the dome.

It was the ultimate setup.

Jango reached into his coat and pulled out his ring on a string, letting it catch the swinging, fractured light of the disco ball.

"Attention, Mirror Ball Island!" Jango's voice boomed through the massive speakers, instantly commanding the attention of the Marines, the pirates, and the tens of thousands of locals. "It's time to change the tempo! Keep your eyes on the swinging light!"

He snapped out his arm and held out his round chakram on its string, sending it swinging side to side and he was totally oblivious to the fact that the giant disco ball was mirroring that motion overhead.

“One, two… Jango!”