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There's a missing scene here.
It's probably missing because Emmet didn't want it recorded.
It involved a dark and stormy night during which Sully was awoken from his peaceful slumber by the door to their tavern room slamming open. There was his boss standing in the threshold, his clothes torn and soiled and his eyes wide with terror—but he was cradling a bag of gold that nearly equaled what they kept in reserve on the NECESSITY (before it swam away from them).
Sully was more than capable of piecing together what had just happened. No, his boss hadn't previously gone back in time and set up secret caches of wealth for use in cases of emergency. As their conversation from the other day made perfectly clear, Emmet didn't have the foresight to think of things like that. No, the real explanation was far more mundane than the idea of a temporal safe deposit box.
Have I mentioned that wombats are natural diggers? They don't need tools to make a big hole. And this was an era of pirates and their buried treasure.
So Emmet seemed to have found somebody's secret cache. He took just enough from it to hide under his coat and get the hell out of there before the suspicious scalawag who buried it came by to check up on his loot.
"A pirate's life is for no one!" he gasped as he dropped the sack on the floor and collapsed on the foot of the bed.
Sully finally managed to shake his boss awake the following afternoon.
The first thing the wombat did was shuffle downstairs and pay Bob the bear what they owed him for their room and board. Then after a little "hair of the dog" (Emmet had grown fond of rum very quickly) he and his assistant strolled down to the harbor to purchase...
...a rather mangy-looking sloop, all things considered.
"It won't get us all the way to Atlantis," he explained as they inspected their humble but seaworthy vessel. "For that we'll need provisions, and a full crew, not to mention weapons to defend ourselves. Really we'll need a much bigger boat..."
And he promptly got that distinctly wombattish, fiercely entrepreneurial look in his eyes.
"No more digging. We'll just have to whip up some business. It worked out well enough for us last mission."
This was the New World after all. Everything was merchants and mercantilism. That they should utilize their sloop for commerce seemed a no-brainer.
However, rather than trading in products that were nakedly fraudulent and thus liable to get them tarred and feathered, this time Emmet and Sully combined the former's honest-to-goodness cutting edge health knowledge with the latter's past experience as a sticky-fingered thief.
Any dock official would watch them pry open a crate of citrus fruit, utter aye, that be citrus fruit ye have there and not even look for the contraband hidden at the bottom.
It was (once again) not exactly a foolproof plan but it was the best and most cash flow-positive scheme they could come up with. Christening their new ship the REQUIREMENT, Emmet and Sully's nascent "courier service" went into operation.
And though they were still far from being able to hire a full complement of hearty sailors brave enough to venture into treacherous waters, Bob the bear was helpful enough to recommend his own brother, Carl the bear, for their immediate use. Carl was a sea salt worth his savor, if Bob's judgement was to be relied on. Dumb as a crate of oranges but he'll haul anything you tell him to.
Emmet liked that Carl didn't just have the IQ of a lemon, he was also (like most of the sailors Emmet was running into) completely illiterate. That meant you could not only tell him the employment contract he stamped his paw mark on said anything you wanted, you could also change your story three times on the way to the next port and he wouldn't even notice.
Who wasn't a lemon was the old skunk that oversaw the next port. His wooden leg told Emmet that he too was a veteran sailor, probably none too happy that age and injury now kept him confined to land. Even so, his erstwhile career taught him all the tricks that "couriers" like to pull and he made it his business to notice the slightest discrepancies between a ship's cargo and its declared manifest. And he wasn't buying a word of any story Emmet gave him.
It was too much for any self-respecting wombat to bear. First he was accused of being a soft-bellied landlubber and that was insult enough—but now a smuggler?
Emmet made no bones that Sully and whats-his-face should continue unloading the ship while he gave this stuck up busybody a piece of his mind.
Artwork by
Tanuklear, with a cameo by 
A-Kitsune's Save as a skeptical customs officer.
(It looks like Carl might not be as dim as he seems. He's staring daggers at a little thing that might turn into a very big problem, very soon.)
There's a missing scene here.
It's probably missing because Emmet didn't want it recorded.
It involved a dark and stormy night during which Sully was awoken from his peaceful slumber by the door to their tavern room slamming open. There was his boss standing in the threshold, his clothes torn and soiled and his eyes wide with terror—but he was cradling a bag of gold that nearly equaled what they kept in reserve on the NECESSITY (before it swam away from them).
Sully was more than capable of piecing together what had just happened. No, his boss hadn't previously gone back in time and set up secret caches of wealth for use in cases of emergency. As their conversation from the other day made perfectly clear, Emmet didn't have the foresight to think of things like that. No, the real explanation was far more mundane than the idea of a temporal safe deposit box.
Have I mentioned that wombats are natural diggers? They don't need tools to make a big hole. And this was an era of pirates and their buried treasure.
So Emmet seemed to have found somebody's secret cache. He took just enough from it to hide under his coat and get the hell out of there before the suspicious scalawag who buried it came by to check up on his loot.
"A pirate's life is for no one!" he gasped as he dropped the sack on the floor and collapsed on the foot of the bed.
Sully finally managed to shake his boss awake the following afternoon.
The first thing the wombat did was shuffle downstairs and pay Bob the bear what they owed him for their room and board. Then after a little "hair of the dog" (Emmet had grown fond of rum very quickly) he and his assistant strolled down to the harbor to purchase...
...a rather mangy-looking sloop, all things considered.
"It won't get us all the way to Atlantis," he explained as they inspected their humble but seaworthy vessel. "For that we'll need provisions, and a full crew, not to mention weapons to defend ourselves. Really we'll need a much bigger boat..."
And he promptly got that distinctly wombattish, fiercely entrepreneurial look in his eyes.
"No more digging. We'll just have to whip up some business. It worked out well enough for us last mission."
This was the New World after all. Everything was merchants and mercantilism. That they should utilize their sloop for commerce seemed a no-brainer.
However, rather than trading in products that were nakedly fraudulent and thus liable to get them tarred and feathered, this time Emmet and Sully combined the former's honest-to-goodness cutting edge health knowledge with the latter's past experience as a sticky-fingered thief.
Any dock official would watch them pry open a crate of citrus fruit, utter aye, that be citrus fruit ye have there and not even look for the contraband hidden at the bottom.
It was (once again) not exactly a foolproof plan but it was the best and most cash flow-positive scheme they could come up with. Christening their new ship the REQUIREMENT, Emmet and Sully's nascent "courier service" went into operation.
And though they were still far from being able to hire a full complement of hearty sailors brave enough to venture into treacherous waters, Bob the bear was helpful enough to recommend his own brother, Carl the bear, for their immediate use. Carl was a sea salt worth his savor, if Bob's judgement was to be relied on. Dumb as a crate of oranges but he'll haul anything you tell him to.
Emmet liked that Carl didn't just have the IQ of a lemon, he was also (like most of the sailors Emmet was running into) completely illiterate. That meant you could not only tell him the employment contract he stamped his paw mark on said anything you wanted, you could also change your story three times on the way to the next port and he wouldn't even notice.
Who wasn't a lemon was the old skunk that oversaw the next port. His wooden leg told Emmet that he too was a veteran sailor, probably none too happy that age and injury now kept him confined to land. Even so, his erstwhile career taught him all the tricks that "couriers" like to pull and he made it his business to notice the slightest discrepancies between a ship's cargo and its declared manifest. And he wasn't buying a word of any story Emmet gave him.
It was too much for any self-respecting wombat to bear. First he was accused of being a soft-bellied landlubber and that was insult enough—but now a smuggler?
Emmet made no bones that Sully and whats-his-face should continue unloading the ship while he gave this stuck up busybody a piece of his mind.
Artwork by
Tanuklear, with a cameo by 
A-Kitsune's Save as a skeptical customs officer.(It looks like Carl might not be as dim as he seems. He's staring daggers at a little thing that might turn into a very big problem, very soon.)
Category All / All
Species Unspecified / Any
Size 1800 x 1010px
File Size 2.38 MB
Listed in Folders
WOW!! Me being a tall kunk for a change! :3
[Here is an interesting trivia for the ones who reads the comments: if you look closely, Emmet's currently -shirtless-, but still wearing his cool coat and pants, you can see some fur sticking out from his bare belly >.>]
[Here is an interesting trivia for the ones who reads the comments: if you look closely, Emmet's currently -shirtless-, but still wearing his cool coat and pants, you can see some fur sticking out from his bare belly >.>]
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