He's a mute, sir. Poor devil had his tongue cutout. So he trained the parrot to talk for him. No one's yet figured how.
— You should know better than to wake a man when he's sleeping. It's bad luck.
— Fortunately, I know how to counter it. The man who did the waking buys the man who was sleeping a drink. The man who was sleeping drinks it while listening to a proposition from the man who did the waking.
— Aye. That'll about do it.
— So you expect to leave me standing on some beach with nothing but a name and your word it's the one I need, and watch you sail away in my ship?
— No. I expect to leave you standing on some beach with absolutely no name at all, watching me sail away on my ship, and then I'll shout the name back to you. Savvy?
— You stole my boat.
— Actually — borrowed. Borrowed without permission. But with every intention of bringing it back to you.
— You don't know what this is, do you?
— It's a pirate medallion.
— This is Aztec gold. One of 882 identical pieces they delivered in a stone chest to Cortés himself. Blood money paid to stem the slaughter he wreaked upon them with his armies. But the greed of Cortés was insatiable. And so the heathen gods placed upon the gold a terrible curse. Any mortal that removes but a single piece from that stone chest shall be punished for eternity.
Well, he plays things close to the vest now. And a hard-learned lesson it was. Three days out on the venture, the first mate comes to him and says everything's an equal share, that should mean the location of the treasure too. So Jack gives up the bearings. That night there was a mutiny. They marooned Jack on an island and left him to die. But not before he'd gone mad with the heat.