Jack Sparrow was sick with horrible scurvy.
Davy Jones brought him some flowers to cheer him up.
"Davy, me Captain Calamari," Jack spluttered. "Ye picked me favourites - fringed kelp and algae."
"Jack Sparrah," Jones hollered. "Heard you were ill, so I thought I'd bring you yer favourite flowers.
"Why, they're jus' delightful," Captain Sparrow flashed a Cheshire grin, gold tooth scintillating. "Almost as delightful as ye."
He suddenly sneezed. "Must be me 'ayfever playin' up again. Time o' year an' all."
"I'll put them in a vase away from ye then," Jones said, tentacles wriggling around on his chin. "Need any medicine?"
"If ye don't mind; I feel rather like a scabby sea bass, rottin' away in me cabin," Jack agreed. "Now, if I recall correctly, tha' lovely landlubber Tia Dalma," Jones flinched visibly at the mention of his lost love, Calypso "once told me o' a voodoo charm that'd cure me ailment. Ye know of such a thing, old salt?"
"Unfortunately for ye, I don't. But, I know how to make some broth that should have ye feeling better in' short time."
"Now ye mention it, I am feelin' somewhat peckish," Jack's stomach growled, evidently agreeing with Jones' proposal. "An' from all the old seadogs' yarns, I hear ye make a good broth."
"Now, Jack, surely ye know better than to listen to an old seadogs' yarn. However, this one be all truthful, I do pride myself in cookin' well and good." Jones said as he started to make the broth.
And then they fucked the croutons.