Puppy's Post It: Ive been with the One Piece fandom for some time, but this is my first story for it. Hope y'all enjoy! Ive seen so many stories with Marco or Ace being turned into a kid, but I have not seen any with a little Thatch. The plot for this story is so far really only half thought out, so it depends on the reviews I get if I even continue this, so if you like it please review! Even if you don't like it review too, constructive criticism is welcome! I'll give you dog biscuits, arf arf! :3

Disclaimer: Say it with me now, FAN. FIC. TION. Nuff' said.

"Look what I got!"

The two commanders looked up from where they sat in the ship's empty dinning room at the grinning man who held some brownish yellowish object in his hands. A vase.

"...A vase." Marco deadpanned, looking up at Thatch with a 'Why on God's good earth would I care about that' look. It was just a plain old, not even good looking vase. Thatch nodded eagerly, grin still firmly on his face.

"Where'd you get it? That thing looks like it came straight out of an ancient museum or something." Ace asked curiously, eyeing the indeed ancient looking item.

"From some crazy old woman." Thatch said a little too cheerfully for Marco not to wonder about his friend's mental health at that moment.

"Why are you happy about that? It's not something to be proud of, getting ugly vases from senile old ladies." Marco pointed out with folded arms.

"It's not just an ordinary vase though!" Thatch chirped excitedly. "The lady said it was cursed, and that it would bring 'crazy things'. It did that to her, she said she's crazy and she needed to get rid of it fast before it screwed her up more, so she said she was selling it really cheap. Just 2 beli for this thing! Isn't that awesome?"

"Your mentality doesn't need anymore damaging, yoi."

Thatch frowned with a mock hurt look on his face. "Wound me with your words whydontcha?" Marco merely rolled his eyes.

"It's really cursed?"Good old non-wounding Ace asked, standing up from his seat on the bench to get a better look.

"I don't know, but I do know now I got a place to put my hair gel. That stuff just always spills out in the little containers, so this will be perfect." The 4th division commander said, turning the brown vase over in his hands.

"I'm pretty sure vases are used for flowers." Ace said with a raised eyebrow at Thatch. Couldn't the guy use something else? He wasn't necessarily against the misuse of vases, but then again he had never misused one in the first place. He actually had never needed one. He just thought something else would be a much better hair goop holder.

"Whatever man, it's a hair gel container now." Thatch replied, looking at the bottom of the vase in curiosity. On the bottom the letter 'Y' was carved in a menacing blood red. Thatch tilted his head slightly at it but didn't give it much thought.

Ace just shrugged. "Okay then I guess. Still don't know why you want that old thing to hold your hair gel, but like you said, whatever."

Marco sighed. "You shouldn't buy stuff from crazy people though. It's far from smart."

"Marco why don't you call me when you stop being such a killjoy, right now I gotta go and wash this cursed baby out so I can put my gel in." The red head grinned widely, turning on his heel. "See ya!"

As he left Ace shrugged again and looked back at Marco with a mischief grin. "Seems like Thatch is busy, so let's continue, shall we?"

A vein on Marco's head popped and his eyebrow twitched in annoyance. "Ace, there is nothing to continue. It's not even remotely possible, so shut up about it."

"But you never know! Your head, your powers-"

"I ate a devil fruit yoi!"

"-It's only logic that your dad was a pineapple and your mother a burning hen! Tell me that makes no sense, just try, but you think about it first!" Ace's lips were twisted a bit as he tried to hold back his laughter at his own words and Marco's utterly annoyed expression at his persistence to continue the argument (Ace had of course initiated) they had been having before Thatch came back from his trip to the island they were docked at. He could hear someone in laughter hysterics just outside the mess hall, and it was obvious Thatch hadn't completely left yet.

"Just shut up, Ace. I've had enough of your stupid theory on my parents for one day." With that he stood up and gave Ace a well deserved bonk on the head using haki, then plodded to the half closed door of the exit and set the hair of the one on the other side on fire.

"W-WHAT THE HELL!?" While Thatch was now in screaming hysterics, running down the hall with flaming hair, Marco turned the other way and began walking slowly back to his room.

Ace rubbed at his head, a bump forming. He couldn't help the small triumphant grin that slowly formed on his face and the giggles. Annoying Marco was just too fun. Even if it cost Thatch some hair.

Thatch, the poor soul, was now sulking in the bathroom, looking at his hair in the mirror. "Damn you, Marco, damn you..." He grumbled sourly, reaching up a hand to gently cradle a drooping, scorched wisp of hair. The bucket of water he had thrown on himself hung loosely in his other hand, and he dropped it in favor of sighing and grabbing the vase he had left on the sink.

Oh he would get his revenge. Marco would rue the day he messed with Thatch's hair, rue it. Thatch would make sure of that. He hadn't just bought the vase because it was cheap and a good hair gel holder. When the crazy lady told him it was cursed, he had gotten ideas.

With the 'cursed' vase as a scape goat, he could go around and tell people that it was cursed, let them laugh and say it wasn't, then he would screw them over with a big prank and leave the vase in the middle of the destruction. That was sure to freak people out, and he was pretty good at the innocent routine.

Well, everyone else was off the hook now. Marco was officially going to be the only target of the 'cursed' vase for attacking it's 'master'. Marco would probably catch on easily, especially if he is the only target and had happened to have burned up the top 8th of Thatch's hair and turned many red-brown strands black, but whatever. He. Would. Have. Revenge!

The wet haired man cackled to himself quietly as he turned on the water and began to fill the vase up. He still needed to wash the thing out though, planning could come later. As the vase filled he grabbed a towel and began drying off his hair, crying dramatic tears as he thought about how ruined his do was.

Marco was lucky that Thatch still had a decent amount of hair on his head, had the fire burned it all off Thatch wouldn't even consider mercy. Thatch was barely considering it now. He was seriously contemplating sea-stone cuffing the 1st division commander to his bed and placing it in the middle of the deck in a bird cage, complete with a chicken outfit when he noticed the vase was full and starting to over flow. Turning off the water, he picked up and turned the vase upside down over the sink.

Thatch blinked in surprise. Nothing was coming out.

"..."

He turned the vase back over and looked inside. He could see the water inside. He tipped it to the left a little. The water rippled but didn't spill. He tipped it to the right. Same thing. He shook the vase up and down. Not so much as a drop spilled.

Alright. This was certainly... strange. Thatch slowly put his hand in the vase, having half expected his hand not to be able to go in, but to his surprise it did. He cupped a hand full of water and lifted it out easily. Spilling the water in his hand into the sink, Thatch once again turned the vase upside down and shook it this time. Nothing came out, like before. "Wha...?"

He blinked in confusion at the vase, and then surprise when the vase's bottom with the 'Y' disappeared. He looked into the hole left behind, seeing nothing but rippling blackness before all of a sudden he was blasted full in the face with the strength of a gun almost. The sudden spout of water made him stumble back and fall on his rump, the vase landing in his lap.

"W-what the!?" He spluttered, wiping water out his face and staring in shock at the vase. The vase, on it's side, was still a moment, then it's bottom returned and Thatch could have sworn he saw the neck of the thing turn upwards slightly in a grin. A mischief grin. And the grin stayed put.

"...It... It isn't...is it?" Thatch had a feeling that maybe the cray old woman hadn't been totally cray about the curse at least all of a sudden. That feeling grew stronger as the vase seemed to look up at him with that wide grin that said 'Your in for a lot you didn't pay for'.

"..." The once again wet haired man stared at it a moment, before he realized he was once again a wet haired man. Suddenly Thatch felt incredibly annoyed. "No... how dare it... if this demon vase thinks it can mess with me...!" He mumbled in irritation, glaring at the object.

The vase's grin faltered in incomprehension of why this guy didn't seem as afraid and freaked out as it'd like. Wait, no, that was crazy talk! The stupid vase wasn't grinning! Thatch had this thing not a day and already it was making him insane.

Quickly picking up the object he stood and looked down at it, a scolding tone in his voice. "Listen here Vase!" He was aware of how stupid he must look talking to this thing. "I don't know what your trying to pull, I honestly don't care, but you watch where you spray that water! I just dried my hair!"

The vase sweatdropped. This guy seemed to only be upset about his hair, not the fact that he was holding a cursed flower holder that was grinning at him and, well, cursed. The grin became a confused frown,(No it didn't! It WASN'T frowning!) neck coming together.

Thatch, honestly, had seen weirder things. He could care less about the vase itself now. He was really upset though that the thing had the nerve to wet his hair, right after he dried it too. It was annoying having his hair messed up, especially 2 times in the same day.

"You listening?...Whatever, at least your clean." He put the vase under his arm and towel dried his hair, then exited the bathroom, at this point accepting the vase as it was. Partially. He didn't like believing it made faces. Even still, again he'd seen weirder things. The New World had some crazy stuff, animals and objects alike.

Thatch was grumbling under his breath the entire time he was walking towards his room. Maybe he should be a little more concerned about the fact he had a cursed vase frowning (NOT.) under his arm, but he couldn't just leave his poor hair unattended. Entering his room, he put the vase on the desk and glared at it a moment, before turning around to go grab some hair gel.

The vase snapped out of it's stupor and decided that now would be a great time to show this guy he wasn't to be taken lightly. Inhaling air, which even the vase wondered why was possible due to it having no lungs, then making it's bottom disappear it exhaled the air hard from there, which produced a brief farting noise and gave Thatch the warning he needed to quickly duck out of the way as the brown item blasted through the air towards his head.

"Oi! Are you trying to break my head!?" Thatch cried, raising an eyebrow at it and now looking more amused then annoyed. Maybe it was. He'd never fought a vase before, and from what he's seen it do so far all it wanted to do was hurt him. This could be interesting.

The vase landed with a plop on Thatch's bed and used a well pressured puff of air on both sides to make it stand upright, then it's bottom returned and it stilled. Cursed or not, it was still a vase and had to act like a vase every once in a while. Though puffing out air and flying weren't very vase-y things to do.

Thatch stared at it curiously before he sighed, walking up to the vase. "Look, Vase, I dunno what your deal is, but if you have something against me, sorry for whatever I did. Wanna start over?" He gave it a friendly grin. He didn't feel right having a vase hating him as it apparently did.

The vase, Thatch couldn't even deny it now, straight up gapped. Like, the edge of it's neck was touching the bed sheets it was gaping so wide. What the heck's wrong with this guy? He was way way way way WAY, too calm about this whole situation then it was comfortable with. And he thought it was angry at him? He wanted to start over? The vase was cursed, it was just doing it's job! Cursing him! So why wasn't he trying to fling it out the window by now? Not that that would work, the woman had done that a couple times. It would just fly back and return when least expected.

In all actuality when Thatch had been walking down the hall he had thought chucking it out a porthole would have been the best course of action. Then again, he was not only a Whitebeard pirate, but the 4th division commander of the Whitebeard pirates. When situations like this presented themselves, he did not simply freak out and throw it into the sea. No, he would stick with this a while, see how things played out. He payed for the thing, after all. For all he knew, since the vase so far had been acting alive, he could find himself calling this vase brother (If Whitebeard wanted to have a vase for a son)! Thatch was a man who would jump at the chance to make nakama, even one as old and tacky looking as this.

"Well?" Thatch persisted, grin growing wider. The vase just sat there with that same dumbfounded expression on it's neck (It DOESN'T have an expression! You know what, he was trying to make friends with it for crying out loud, Thatch had already gone off the deep end).

When it didn't respond the burnt haired man sighed and grabbed a couple jars of his hair gel. "While you think about it, I'll just go ahead and fill you up, kay? You're probably gonna be a big help, so thanks in advance."

That being said Thatch smiled warmly at it and plodded over, unscrewing one of the jars. He cursed under his breath when already a bit of hair gel dripped out, and he wondered why the company put the gel in such horrible containers. He tipped the shallow jar to the vase's wide open neck and let the goop plop inside. He had put in at least 3 jars worth and was about to add the last one when finally the vase seemed to come to it's senses and snapped it's neck back to it's original position.

Thatch blinked. "You don't wanna hold anymore?" He asked the vase. The vase didn't move, and Thatch wondered how at some point he had gotten used to talking to it.

"Alright, if you can't hold anymore, then let's see now if your any better then those stupid original gel jars, yeah?" Thatch lifted the vase by it's neck up carefully with his right hand and tipped it towards his left's open palm. He waited a moment. Another moment. Another... okay, it did not take this long for his hair gel to tip out of something, especially a vase of this size, which was a little over small.

"Oi, your not gonna do that thing you did with the water again, are you?" Thatch asked suspiciously. The vase's neck slowly became a closed frown, and Thatch blinked once in a brief moment of failed understanding. Then it hit him.

"Oh... Hell no!"

"Gimme back my hair gel, buttwipe!" Thatch barked, shaking the vase up and down vigorously. This little piece of crap was planning on hoarding all his hair gel, wasn't it? Well Thatch was having none of that.

"Come on, spit it out!" He shook it harder, then suddenly he felt the vase become warmer, and the part he was holding sort of melted into his hand. The vase's neck turned to smirk at him evilly, attempting to be creepy and freak him out like it had intended too before in the bathroom.

"Le'go of my hair gel! And me!" The man with the vase currently attached to his hand shouted, turning to bang the vase over the drawer. Smoke, what the vase hoped to Thatch would be creepy, filtered out of the slightly parted opening of the vase and began to surround the human, though he payed it no mind. "Seriously! I swear I will smash you into oblivion if you don't unhand me and my gel!" Thatch growled and went to grab his sword that had been against his bedside. The vase practically scoffed. This guy must be getting desperate, probably gonna saw off his own hand. That would be a big success for the vase.

"I'm warning you Vase, release me and my gel!" The vase paid no heed to his words, it's smirk merely growing. Thatch grit his teeth and then shoved his powerful sword down into the vase's neck, avoiding his hand and cutting straight through the thing. The vase was so shocked it's opening pulled into an open mouthed frown and some hair gel dripped out like blood. It released it's melted like hold on his hand, falling with a thud on the ground. With couple more quick slashes the vase was in pieces.

Thatch stood, glaring down at the broken thing that was in a gooey heap of shards and gel. The vase was still, 'alive', if you wanna say that, but stunned. Then it broke out of it's stunned stillness and it's pieces began to tremble lightly. It could easily rebuild itself, so long as it's 'Y' wasn't broken, and it planned on doing so and taking revenge on this guy. Then it realized it couldn't do more than tremble. Because this guy had his foot on it's 'Y'.

"Ugh, I don't ever wanna see that letter in that color again, your a real jerk, ya know that Vase?" The vase could 'see', again, if that's how you wanna put it, Thatch raise his sword to shatter the 'Y' and effectively... 'kill', it. The vase, if it had teeth, would have grit them. It wasn't going to be destroyed without leaving a gift.

As the sword swung down the pieces began to emit purple smoke which quickly filled the room. The 'Y' was shattered almost at the same instant Thatch began to cough violently. What on earth was going on? He didn't have much time to ponder that, though, as he began to feel light headed, then eventually passed out, falling to the ground.

Marco, Ace, and a couple of there crewmates ran down the hall. They had all been gathered around Ace a couple halls down trying to draw stuff on his face when he had a narcolepsy attack in the hall, Marco had come to shoo them off (mainly cuz he wanted to do it and they were hogging all the spaces), and Ace had just woken when they heard shouting from a distance. In an instant it was recognized as Thatch, and it sounded distressed, so they were all immediately flying down the hall.

When they reached his room Marco swung the door open and froze when he saw the place currently emptying itself of purple gas. Thatch was no where in sight, and Ace was about to run right in and call for him without considering the gas could be poisonous when the last traces cleared up and they could see more clearly into the room.

"...Who...?" Marco murmured, staring at the occupant of the 4th division commander's room.

There was a kid, lying on the floor. He didn't look to be anymore than 6 or 7 maybe. About a minute after all the smoke cleared away and they could only stare the kid groaned and began to stir.

The child sat up with another groan, rubbing his eyes sleepily and blinking. He rubbed at his red head next and looked around. No trace of the vase that had just been vanquished was to be seen, and the kid's head tilted as he took in what was to be seen in the room. A bed, swords, a desk, some hair gel, a group of men staring at him, a chair, pile of clothes-... Wait. He turned his attention back to the men.

"...Who'er you?"

"WHO THE HELL ARE YOU!?"

Puppy's Post It: Arf arf! There ya go people! I guess the parts with the seriously personified cursed vase could be considered a smidge of crack, cuz that's what it felt like to me while writing it, if you'd like. In case your worried this story will become like that due to the circumstances, no, there will not be any really important ocs in this story, maybe a couple random crewmates when necessary and pedestrians at best, senile old woman most, but no one with a huge role or will be OP or something like that. Never *shudders* -~- Anywho, this story is up just to see how you all will react to it. Don't expect frequent updates for a while if your interested, because not only is there school and life in general holding me back, but my dad is coming back from his work trip soon. The guy sees me on the computer for 30 minutes and he says he needs to 'limit' my computer time. =3= This is my first time writing for this fandom, so please tell me what you think! Reviews help motivate me! And I hope I kept peeps in character, arf! Remember, if you review, you get doggy biscuits! Arf arf! Yummy doggy biscuits :3