Jack Sparrow was on his hands and knees, face only inches from the ground when James Norrington, Commodore, R.N. strode around the corner and nearly tripped over him.

"Sparrow! What on earth are you doing?"

Jack did not change position. "Shhh! I'm studying buggery. You're disturbin' my experimentation."

"You're studying what?"

"Buggery. You know. Bugs. Insects. Six legs and can carry 500 times their own body weight, that sort of thing."

"Sparrow, you idiot. You are not studying buggery. You're studying entomology."

"Entomology, etymology, I don't care what word you use. I am most assuredly studying buggery."

When Norrington removed his fingers from the bridge of his nose and looked down again, the pirate was in exactly the same posture but had contrived to rid himself of all garments from the waist down. At the sight of all that brown skin shining in the sun, he caved.

"Buggery it is, then," he muttered as he started shedding layers in anticipation of the forthcoming study session.