Goodnight Jackie

One night, Jack Sparrow couldn’t sleep. So he grabbed his plaid, fleece blanket and walked into the living room. In his footy pajamas.
“.. Jack?” his dad asked. “What are you doing up? And why are you wearing your footy pajamas?! You’re an adult!”
“But… I can’t sleep…” he whispered, clutching Mr. Teddy’s arm tightly. “Will you read me a story?” Jack’s dad blinked. He blinked again. And once more, he blinked.
“… No.”
“BUT I CAN’T SLEEEEEEEEEP!!!” And so Jack fell to his knees and began sobbing and writhing around on the ground. Finally, Mr. Sparrow-father grabbed the cuff of his son’s footy pajamas and lifted him onto his lap.
“IF I READ YOU A STORY, WILL YOU SHUT UP AND GO TO BED?!?!” he yelled. Jack covered his mouth and nodded. Mr. Sparrow-father sighed and rolled his eyes, grabbing a dictionary off the table. “Uhh… Once upon a time, there was a boy and a girl. The guy liked the girl, but she didn’t like him back, so he fell into deep depression.”
“That’s not what it sa—”
“WHO’S READING THE STORY!?!” Jack went silent. Mr. Sparrow-father cleared his throat. “Anyway, he woke-up the next morning, went to a bar, got drunk, shagged a new chick, shagged another chick, shagged your mother, got bored, fell asleep, the end. Go to sleep.”
“That’s not what the book said at all…” Jack Sparrow whined. Mr. Sparrow-father scowled at him.
“Well, you’re reading it wrong,” he decided. He somehow picked Jack Sparrow up bridal-style and carried him into his bedroom, tossing him onto the bed. “Go to slee—”
“Your story was boring.”
“Shut it and go to sleep,” he demanded, walking out of the room, turning the light out, and slamming the door closed. Jack whimpered, curled up in blankets, and fell asleep at once.