Will couldn't help himself. The aromas wafting up through the rotting deck were spellbinding. He found himself drawn down where the Captain was working away. He reached the kitchen, avoiding said Captain as he slaved over the night's meal. The empty rum bottles were lined up a couple of feet away from the wall so as to create a pathway in which to walk. Will stepped carefully, watching the captain's marvelous culinary expertise at work.

Jack didn't want the pepper. He didn't want the spaghetti served as it was, with a groove in the middle of the pile. He didn't want the meatballs on a bed of cheese in this groove in the pasta. But Pintel didn't listen. Pintel never listened to him.

Elizabeth was seated at the table – his taste tester ready for work. Pintel hastily, and without being ordered to, added the pepper – and he sneezed. Will, still hidden in the shadows, pressed against the wall, watched events unfold:

The sneeze made Elizabeth start. She accidentally knocked a meatball off the plate and it rolled across the tabletop, plopping to the floor. It continued to roll across the floor, colliding with one of the rum bottles. It started rocking on its base, tipping neither here nor there, but finally falling, causing a domino effect of crashes that rang throughout the room. The crashes were intensified by the angry roars of the cook (Jack) and the uncontrollable laughing (a.k.a. giggling fit) of Will. Elizabeth stared, dumbfounded, at the wreck.

Will picked up a bowl that had fallen off a shelf, rolling it to Jack's feet. It caught the captain off guard, making him lose his balance, literally bowling him over. Jack looked up at the still giggling whelp, getting to his feet. Elizabeth was still shocked, but shot Will a darting glance nonetheless. "What's so funny?"

He looked at her sardonically, finally overcoming his giggling. His eyes were gleaming as he suppressed another wave of laughter. "Bowling."