Many moons ago, we were out a pillagin’ fer some booty. We marooned in this little port, sat down fer a glass o’ rum, and battened down the hatches fer good. We still be singin’ the same old shanties, keepin’ the quarters filled with our plunder.
Many a matey and landlubber heave to the cabin fer a grog er bottle o’ rum. Pillage what ye like from the bounty, but remember - If ye drink too much bilge water it’ll give ye sealegs. Find yerself overboard ’n’ the first matey might be a’harkin’, “Thar she blows!” Don’t find yerself spittin’ in the chum bucket - Cap’n’s orders.