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| “No, thanks all the same,” says Jack, feeling mighty suspicious; but the pirate pours him one anyway, from the rotund bottle of rum that’s more than half empty already. Sometimes one just has to go with the flow of things. Jack shrugs and accepts it. “Cheers, and I’m Jack Sparrow,” says Jack Sparrow. “Captain, that is. P’rhaps you’ve heard of me?” “Nope.” “Oh well. P’rhaps you don’t get about much.” Jack snorts. “Jack Shaftoe gets about plenty!” he avers, and then jumps as Jack Sparrow lets out a yell. “Jack Shaftoe! I know where I’ve seen you! Oh, yes. You should be more careful, mate; wandering about in publick like this. Approaching strangers. How d’you know I’m not the law, eh?” Jack gives him a withering look (to counter the ridiculous idea that this creature could be in any way legally affiliated) and then a questioning one (meaning, of course, what the fuck are you on about?) “Saw you on a bill. Several bills, ackcherly. You, Mr Shaftoe, have been a very naughty boy.” “I can’t deny that,” says Jack, frowning, “but I’m a bit concerned as to what bits of naughtiness have come to light, not to mention to the attention of the Law.” “Umm...” Sparrow glances upwards, thinking hard. “Was it something to do with counterfeiting?” “No,” says Jack, who’s been looking into that, as it happens, but to date has taken no such action. “Pandering?” Jack guffaws. Hardly. What’s Sparrow’s next guess? Arson or sodomy? |
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