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SCAR
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"Dawn! On th' beach! Best bring a second what's plenty strong t' haul yer carcass back home!" That was six hours ago, and Barbossa's already there.
His opponent arrives, and swords are drawn. They take their positions; they lunge and parry…
The tip of the other man's sword catches Barbossa under the eye and lays his right cheek open, but he's used to pain, and the taste of blood in his mouth does little save make him more determined.
Seeing what he's done pleases Barbossa's foe and makes him careless: he laughs, he taunts, he jeers.
He gurgles in shock as Barbossa, with a roll of his eyes and a snort, calmly slashes his throat, then carves his heart from his chest. "That be for muckin' up m' pretty face!" he spits just before he returns to his ship for a rendezvous with needle and gut at the hands of a drunken surgeon.
-oOo- FIN -oOo-