— Look alive and keep a weather eye. Not for nought it's called Shipwreck Island where lies Shipwreck Cove and the Town of Shipwreck.
— You heard him! Step lively!
— You know, for all that pirates are clever cogs, we are an unimaginative lot — when it comes to naming things.
— Right.
— I once sailed with a geezer, lost both of his arms, part of his eye.
— What'd you call him?
— Larry.
— I'll watch your back.
— It's me front I'm worried about.
— Those aren't pieces of eight. They're just pieces of junk.
— Aye. The original plan was to use nine pieces of eight to bind Calypso, but when the first court met, the brethren were to a one skint broke.
— So change the name.
— What? To «nine pieces of whatever we happen to have in our pockets at the time»? Oh, yes, that sounds very pirate-y.
— Mr. Gibbs, any particular reason why my ship is gone?
— The ship? We're on the ship... Jack! The ship's gone!
— Really?!
— Mr Gibbs, we have a need to travel upriver.
— By need, do you mean a trifling need? Fleeting? As in, say, a passing fancy?
— No, a resolute and unyielding need.
— Mr. Gibbs.
— Captain?
— You may throw my hat if you like.
— Aye, aye, captain. Hooray!
— Now go and get it.
— Close haul her. Luff the sails and lay her in iron.
— Belay that! Or we'll be a sitting duck.
— Belay that "belay that."
— But, captain...
— Belay. Belay. Stow. Stow. Shut it.
— Jack, I have to ask... You had the chalices, the water, the tear... You could have lived maybe forever.
— The Fountain does test you, Gibbs. But better to not know which moment may be your last. Every morsel of your entire being... alive to the infinite mystery of it all. And who's to say I won't live forever, eh? Discoverer of the Fountain of Youth. I have no say in it, Gibbs. It's a pirate's life for me. Savvy?
— Ah, you pretended to love her, then you left her and broke her heart.
— Worse. I may have had, briefly, mind you... stirrings.
— Stirrings?
— Stirrings.
— What? Like feelings, you mean?
— No, no, no. Not quite all the way to feelings. More like... All right, feelings, damn you.
— And you left her still. That's low.
— Thank you.
— So what purpose would be served in finding whatever need be unlocked, which we don't have, without first having found the key what unlocks it?
— So we're going after this key.
— You're not making any sense at all.
— Jack.
— Mr. Gibbs.
— Aye, captain.
— I thought so. I expect you're able to account for your actions, then.
— Sir?
— There has been a perpetual and virulent lack of discipline upon my vessel. Why? Why is that, sir?
— Sir, you're... You're in Davy Jones' Locker, captain.
— I know that. I know where I am. And don't think I don't.
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