Excerpt: "And so the Great Trash Truce was arranged." When Tethys first asked the other merfolk for help cleaning up the ocean, dozens of them leapt at the call. Some had also been privately worried about the increase in clutter themselves and were relieved someone else had taken matters into their own fins. Others just wanted a chance to be close to the pretty mermaid and maybe catch one of her dazzling smiles as they competed with one another to collect the most garbage. At the end of the first day, they'd collected a dizzying array of items. An enormous heap of barrels, boots and bottles loomed over them, threatening to topple over at any moment. "What do we do with all of this?" one of the merfolk asked, frowning at the sight. Everyone looked to Tethys for guidance. She hadn't thought this far ahead, but wasn't about to admit that to everybody out loud. "Take it to the Seabed, of course," someone else said, and she nodded as if it had been her idea all along. "Hatching season is almost here, after all! Come on, let's get moving!" The merfolk dutifully picked up basketfuls of the stuff and started lugging it to the Seabed. A few of them may have noticed that while Tethys did quite a bit of directing, she didn't carry any herself, but they kept silent. "Ogenus?" she called, when the bizarre procession reached the entrance to the Seabed. A few minutes later, the older merman came swimming up from the depths, blinking in surprise at the crowd gathered outside his home. "This is for me?! All of it? You don't want to keep even a little bit for yourselves?" Tethys pursed her lips and told him that yes, it was all for him, every last piece of it. He and his Kith immediately got to work moving shifting down among the rest of the debris. "And my hatch-day isn't for another season! Kids these days are so generous!" They brought him more trash the next evening, and the next. However, the Seabed was only so big, and on the third day they found him and his Kith camped outside, looking forlorn. (At least, he looked forlorn. Flotsam and Jetsam just looked annoyed and hungry.) "No room!" Ogenus told them with a shrug. "But... what are we supposed to do with all this now?!" Tethys gestured at the line of basket-bearing merfolk behind her. Ogenus glanced at her suspiciously, beginning to wonder if perhaps this shower of gifts hadn't been fueled by community love and appreciation after all. Meanwhile, after three straight days and nights of partying the pirates onboard their ship were finally starting to flag. "Oooh, me head," one moaned. "Won't someone turn off that light?" "That's the SUN, you lug," Bonnie said, stepping over postrate pirates scattered across the deck and making her way to the kitchen to brew more grog. "What the... where the hell are all my barrels?!" "Why are my feet bare?" another pirate asked, wiggling his toes. "'Cause you hurled your boots overboard last night, you nincompoop," his fellow retorted, contemplating the stump where his hook hand was usually secured. "Sober up, you lot, because I CAN'T BREW ANY MORE GROG!" Bonnie exclaimed, stamping her leg for emphasis on the deck. Everybody cringed, even Marcus, who wasn't hungover. "You've gone too far this time!" "No grog?!" The pirates recoiled as one, even Marcus, who didn't drink as much as the others but still enjoyed mug or five on occasion. "Because SOMEBODY tossed every last one of my barrels INTO THE BLEEDIN' OCEAN!" Bonnie fixed them all with a glare that would have wilted Cabbadonia on contact and cowed a Petty Snarl. "No more barrels means NO MORE GROG!" Marcus looked out over the water. He'd noticed the merfolk swimming around the ship, of course, but hadn't been able to get any of them to talk to him. None were here today. "I have an idea!" he exclaimed, and rushed to fetch the rowboat. He had more than a little difficulty steering it, since all of the oars had also been thrown overboard, but with X's help he managed to reach a calm patch of water (well, X mostly just chirped encouragement, but he appreciated it all the same.) It wasn't unusual for him to seek out the merfolk on Bonnie's behalf when her kitchen tools broke, and the merfolk were a curious bunch and wouldn't be able to resist seeing what brought him out before long. And if his hunch was right, they would be particularly anxious to speak with him that morning. "Hello!" A familiar dark head popped up a few minutes later. It was Dione, the seamstress. "What brings you out here?" She was always happy to see Marcus, of course, but things were a little... hectic... down in the Reef right now and she was worried what would happen if she stayed away too long. Shay was trying to convince some of the other merfolk that they ought to give the pirates a taste of their own medicine and start bellowing traditional merfolk ballads while the pirates were trying to recover from their hangovers, and more than a few of the others seemed inclined to agree with him. "Er... this is kind of embarrassing, but..." Marcus scatched his head and wondered if there was any good way to phrase it. "Can we have our trash back?" "By the currents, yes! Take it! Take it all!" Dione exclaimed. "We'll even help you bring it back to your ship!" And so the Great Trash Truce was arranged. The pirates promised not to hurl their junk into the ocean, and the merfolk promised not barrage them with siren songs while they were trying to nurse their throbbing heads. Ogenus got his living space back and had to settle for the occasional accidental scrap again, but that was as it should be. (I give permission for my writing to be shared on official Tattered World social media.)