This is my first POTC story. I am pretty new to the Pirates of the Caribbean movies so I decided to challenge myself by getting into the mind of one of the hardest characters to predict: Jack Sparrow.

All spelling and grammatical errors can be blamed on Jack Sparrow if they are written in a 1st person view. No one said pirates went to English class, eh?

I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean, Jack Sparrow, Mr. Cotton, or Mr. Cotton's parrot. All belong to Disney.

Oh, and Immanuel Kant and Jeremy Bentham's moral theories are not mine. They belong to Immanuel Kant and Jeremy Bentham.

I also know Kant and Bentham created their moral theories a bit later than Jack Sparrow's time. (The late 1700's and early 1800's) But humor me on this: after all, Jack Sparrow is the one talking about them here.

Without further adieu, here is the story.

It was nearly sun set when the Black Pearl made its way into waters near the chaotic, rum-filled island of Tortuga. Captain Jack Sparrow had just downed his sixth bottle of rum when he summoned Mr. Cotton and Cotton's parrot to his cabin.

But to old Cotton's chagrin, when he entered the Sparrow's quarters, he found the pirate Captain drunkenly talking to the dirtied wall of his cabin as if he was introducing himself to someone. Cotton took a seat and listened to the humorous monologue that followed.

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First, I would… just to be clear with you; my name is Captain Jack Sparrow. Not Jack. Not Sparrow. Throw in the word Captain in front of either Jack or Sparrow and its fine by me.

Now, with introductions of the way, I would like to… or rather want to… criticise a feculent maggot of a philosopher I discovered on me journeys by the name of Immanuel Kant.

Oh yes… the matter at hand. Kant's moral philosophy… Goes by the name of the Categorical Imperative.

Use people as ends and never as the means only. To sum up this bloody doctrine, it goes against everything piracy is about. No manipulation, lying, trickery, or deceit.

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Cotton narrowed his eyes, peering to the wall and then back to Jack. Sparrow's eyes were still fixed on it.

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There be other parts too, acting by a rule to make it a universal law. It applies to humans, not animals. None of the beastie part is important—though I do say the German man is rather contradictory of hisself in stating different two versions of his theory.

Me concern is his issues with piracy. Now I never considered meself a philosopher. But curiously enough, Kant's morality does give me quite a few ideas. What would say, the English at Port Royal think say… if they read a book authored by Captain Jack Sparrow? Hmm. Now that does have a nice ring to it, eh?

But to be honest with you, what Englishman—not of the piraty sort that is—would read a book authored by a famous pirate such as meself? Put aside the expectations of prim and proper English speak and we still remain with the issue of their view of my twisted yet enlightened pirate-morals. (Don't forget the enlightened part by the way.)

So you see, the English, as stuffy and conventional as they are would not see it fit for anyone to read a book by a pirate—let alone the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow. The kings men, admirals (especially the bloodthirsty betrayers at the East India Trading Company) would staunchly forbid any philosophical work of pirates being read. Peasants, beggars, the lowest of the lowly in rank would be shot, maimed, and hanged on the spot the moment they were seen so much as carrying me work.

Ah, and the Brethren Court. They would be opposed to it for sure. Firstly, the code which we pirates abide by is secret. And so I do admit (grudgingly of course) … they are right. Giving out the pirate code's contents wouldn't be for the best interest of pirates… 'specially meself.

Secondly, there is a problem with my own morals—not that it is beyond my ability to make the Brethren Court believe otherwise (don't forget I AM Captain Sparrow). But I act by me own morals, not just those of the Pirate Lords.

To sum this up in an easily discernable and coherent statement, the Brethren Court has a code of moral-type doctrines every black-hearted, plunderin' sailor is obliged to follow and I, the unique and morally ambiguous Captain Jack Sparrow, happen not only to follow the said code under the most unyielding and absolute situations, but appeal to my own inner conscious into how to act under precarious and uncertain instances which call for not mere adherence to the code, but me own perspective as well, savvy?

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Both Cotton and macaw stared ahead blankly in confusion.

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Ah, so that leaves me with but a few options.

I suppose I could sneak into Port Royal and hand me book to want-to-be pirates. Likely they'd keep the books hidden. Aye, and the finding such men would not be hard. As clean and kept as the governor may say the place is, plenty of desperate peasants and beggars are always present. So much for the saying of Port Royal having decent appearances I say. With a little persuasion, it wouldn't be hard to sway these desperate folks to taking me books. 'specially if I gave them for free. Many of these people—without books or ways to obtain them— have the uttermost desire to learn their letters. I would be doing them a favor most certainly.

An invite to freedom, piracy, a life free of bloody English oppression: nearly an impossible offer to refuse. And that rids meself of the problem with readers being hanged wouldn't it? If me book turned them pirate, the threat of unnatural and unruly death by noose would be but a trifling part of their pirate existence. So that leaves me clear of any harm that comes to them in looking at the book, savvy?

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"Bad Sparrow! Bad Sparrow!" the macaw shrieked. But its call fell on deaf ears; Jack continued rambling.

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And I suppose, if the Brethren Court were to get word of this, I could rightly defend meself. Shooting me for giving out free books to recruit pirates? No likely says I. All the more men to sail the seas and make Port Royal a pirate stronghold like Tortuga. That would not be a plan they would be inclined to argue against, savvy?

To conclude, not one man will find hisself displeased. Works for me, agreeable by the Brethren Court, and a chance for the lowly peasant to escape the squalor and poverty at the bottom of the social latter so to speak.

So all and all a good plan. What's that ye say? 'Me name is still on the book? It could still get discovered by the English? It isn't east India Trading Company and high ranking officials' best interests's? '

Well, I do assure you the welfare of the EITC is of no importance. Down with the EITC says I. As for the admirals, governors, etcetera etcetera, if you sympathize with them and individuals like heartless Cutler Beckett, you are the exact kind of person that will not find hisself in possession of me book, savvy?

Still don't forget, my name of course, Captain Jack Sparrow, is of utter and significant importance. A part of my identity even me crew seems to forget. So I be willing to take a risk, put my name on it. The kind peasants and beggars I give a good life will remember it. Aye, most definitely.

Oh, before it slips me mind, I also happened to run into a man by the name of Bentham. Didn't get the first name unfortunately. His theory, free of astute moral strictness, has something to do with achieving the most happiness for the greatest number of people on a case-by-case scenario. Man has his head in the clouds: such happiness could never be achieved for all. Still, I am in great agreement with the part of his theory that focuses only on consequences.

A moral philosophy with no solid rules, creating happiness for the most people, in which only the outcome matters? Free to manipulate and plunder me black weaselly guts out as long as me debts are paid in the end? Aye, that theory is fine by me.

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By now Mr. Cotton knew Jack Sparrow did not even realize he was present. Jack just talked endlessly to the wall about his philosophical ideas. Cotton had work on deck he needed to attend to and was sure leaving the captain alone until the alcohol wore off would do no harm.

He was about to leave the room to resume his duties when Sparrow's gaze caught his eye.

Jack turned to face the confused man and parrot. His deep brown eyes were out-of-focus but conveyed his logic was not completely lost due to his drunken state. Still, he was close to being too drunk to reason at all. This was unusual for Jack despite the amount of rum he regularly consumed.

"Mr. Cotton. Do not leave just yet. Allow me to explain to you how I met Bentham and Kant. You happened to be lost at sea at the time so I would like to inform you on the nature of what happened while you were gone, savvy?"

The whitish-grey haired pirate sighed and signaled the macaw to keep silent.

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So, I 'uppose I ought to tell you how this came about, me meeting Kant and Bentham.

The story goes as you see that I was leaving Jamaica in search of rum. I need not remind you that the rum is always gone.

So there I was, minding me business looking for a ship to plunder, when I spotted two men arguing in a dinghy lost out far out at sea. And mind me—that dinghy was full of rum.

So against me better nature to leave the two obvious landlubbers to Davy Jones, I forced them… err…. persuaded them into me ship to steal the rum…. and save them of course.

As it turned out as I was talking to them in me quarters, (after the rum was confiscated and taken to the hold), I learnt the riveting story of just how Kant and Bentham happened to get lost at sea with the dinghy full of rum.

In the loudest and most enraged way possible, Kant explained that both he and Bentham happened to be on a journey to Cuba for a philosopher's… what's-its-name meeting. Not far on their voyage into the Caribbean, their ship was attacked by pirates.

Kant's ship, The Philosopher's Stone, was lost along with 'er crew. Mind that us pirates are an unimaginative lot, but naming a ship after a precious alchemical substance that create gold strikes me as a wee bit too imaginative. But I digress, perhaps Kant's little mind was overworked and named the ship for a gold-making gem (no doubt something a pirate may fancy) and forgot the said stone had naught a thing to do with moral philosophy.

So where was I? Ah, yes, the survivors of crew of… The Philosopher's Stone… were held hostage on the said pirate ship.

As it were, all the men were interrogated about the name of their ship and what they knew about the whereabouts of the real Philosopher's Stone. None had an idea and therefore were stabbed and thrown overboard.

Kant and Bentham were the last taken out of the brig for the event. Apparently no one had been told they were philosophers… or perhaps the pirates happened to be smarter than bloody Kant and knew the Philosopher's Stone had naught to do with philosophy.

As it were, Kant was inclined to tell his captors the truth, as commanded by his moral theory. Of course, like the rest he hadn't an inkling of where the Philosopher's Stone might be and therefore was certain he would be killed like the rest of the crew. Still, he thought he ought to be truthful despite blatantly obvious evidence to the contrary.

Bentham, being ever more resourceful and smarter than his naïve, pig-headed partner in philosophy, grabbed Kant by the arm and rushed him to an escape dinghy before he could confess he knew nothing and secure both their deaths.

Now, Kant for reason that escapes all who know him, refused to board the dinghy and escape. For the oddest or reasons, this again went back to his bloody theory, the Categorical Imperative. Some absolutism gibberish: the man could not steal. And may I remind you, the dinghy in which Bentham saw fit to escape and the rum within had been stolen neigh a day ago from another pirate ship.

Kant, bloody eunuch, tried to shove poor Bentham aside and shout that he was trying to steal the dinghy to the whole crew—the crew of pirates that took his oh-so-poorly-named beloved, The Philosopher's Stone, and slaughtered every one of its exclusive of he and Bentham.

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Cotton smiled at Jack and shook his head.

"Rawrrr. Becoming bored. Long story. Too long a story." Cotton put a finger to the macaw's beak to hush it. Jack continued without a pause.

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Though I am certain you have grown bored of hearing this by now, Kant was obeying his superfluous and ludicrous theory. 'It not be right to lie, steal, murder, or do otherwise.' A man with naught but half a brain, a scraggly beard, and a cursed crew and ship could piece the idiosyncrasy of this bloody doctrine together. You do know the kind of person…. the said mutineer I am speaking of, eh?

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Cotton scratched his beard. "Barbossa! Mutinous traitor Barbossa!" the macaw screeched.

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Good. Now I believe I am getting sidetracked. Back to the matter at hand, Kant was content to let Bentham and hisself perish by not lying, hence directly securing the death of hisself and his good partner in philosophy. Now, if it naught be clear after such lengthy and frivolous (most certainly frivolous) discussion that Kant was violating his theory thereby trying to follow it, you are undeniably a clot, savvy?

…So as it were, the crew closed in on the hapless eunuch and his rescuer. But the two had a bit of luck that day when Bentham jumped back thereby causing Kant to fall overboard and into the dinghy with Bentham.

The two were lost at sea for two days after that. And of course, Kant, being a vile and naïve half-wit, refused to drink the rum on board. That of course explains why, when they arrived, the reason Bentham was as cool as a cucumber (minus the anger from hearing Kant's twaddle-speak about morals). On the other hand, Kant was in the state of sun-baked matzah and had the temperament of a vicious onion. I needn't elaborate on this, aye?

Once I had compensated the rum and saved the Kant (bloody philosopher) from turning completely to fish fry, I told the two to meet me in me cabin to inquire the nature of their voyage.

It was then that Kant monologued about the nature of his theories. Poor Bentham of course—being polite and obviously a man who righteously paid me respect as Captain Jack Sparrow—was unable to get a word in edge-wise over the shouting of the pompous lout.

Of course, me being the good-hearted Captain of the Black Pearl, saw fit to let Bentham join the riveting one-sided conversation. Of which, the said Kantian part of the conversation ended with me pressing a sword to Kant's throat with the threat of death. But I assure you, it is of no moral significance.

Then Bentham willingly divulged the nature of his theory and a restatement of their philosophical-what's-it-called meeting at a volume that didn't make me ears ring.

It happened to not be long before Gibbs alerted me to the presence of an EITC ship bearing English colors, The Royal Sabre. That not be a bad name. Well spoken for the vicious nature of the EITC, eh?

Now this ship was not well equipped adequately enough to face the Pearl. After a most decidedly nonviolent turn of events, The Royal Sabre Captain informed me that their only conditions upon surrendering were the safe return of Kant and Bentham. Bitter indifferences arose, ensued, and were overcome. Ah, the captain's initial idea of sending me for a short and violent drop at the gallows was cast aside in battle… I mean agreement, agreement of the negotiational kind.

Also, as part the agreement I struck with the Captain to escape death in the brig of The Royal Sabre… err…. negotiate Kant and Bentham's safe return, I explained the part I played in saving the gentleman and eunuch.

Bentham, good man, nodded and stayed silent, and allowed me to tell the story, truth… same thing.

And Kant, I needn't remind you how the lout's mind works, attempted to correct me every word. The Royal Sabre's crew—as opposed the feculent maggots were to taking the word of a pirate—found Kant much more… troublesome than I.

So as you may imagine, after the EITC ship's crew heard me out about the philosophers' trip to Cuba, said pirates sinking their ship, the trip in the dinghy, and of uttermost importance, me courageous and selfless act of saving the two men, Kant tried to disprove me.

Expectantly, he completely and utterly failed to do so. He began a tirade about how he was captured by the said ship of pirates I mentioned previous, gave but a few subtly different details, and proceeded to conclude his… ponderous lecture with that I had saved him.

Now the EITC ship—they went out of their way to find the philosophers on the navy's command I might add-—were not say… enthralled at the time taken to accommodate Kant's superfluous explanation. The EITC be a company strict on all tasks, time included you see.

Ah, so that was how it ended. They sailed away, all shipments including but limited to… say a nay bit less than gold and other cargo intact. But once again, no moral significance to that either, eh?

So that be how I came across Bentham and Kant. Meeting Bentham (not Kant I assure you) gave me the inspiration for me book, savvy? Speaking of me book, I shall begin work it within but a few days.

Now, Mr. Cotton and… Mr. Cotton's parrot, that I have filled you in while you two were lost at sea with a dinghy filled with rum, what say you to making port on Tortuga and getting the crew some salty wretches?

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Mr. Cotton stood silently by Jack with a puzzled look on his face as his bright rainbow stood macaw on his shoulder. Jack actually looked fairly sober now. His eyes carefully focused on Cotton and his speech was not more slurred than… well… what was typical for Captain Jack Sparrow.

"Rawwwrrr! Sir Immanuel Kant Bentham Cotton. Cotton's full name. Cotton's full name. Tortuga and wretches! Tortuga and wretches!"

A smile crept onto Jack's face. "Aye. I knew you would see it my way." he said lightheartedly. "Now gather the crew and prepare to weigh anchor on Tortuga! Splendid strumpets and rum await us."

Mr. Cotton promptly exited Jack's cabin and onto the deck. He shook his head and grinned.

Echoing the feelings of Cotton, his macaw shook puffed out its feathers. "Tall tale. Rawrr."

A loud muffled yell of surprise was heard from just behind the cabin door. "Wait, his name is Immanuel Kant Bentham Cotton! Bugger… why is the rum gone?"

How was it? Did I stay true to Jack's character with his dialogue? He has a unique way of talking even among pirates. My biggest problem was figuring out where to put the "me's" and "my's" since Jack doesn't use them by correct English standards in conversation. Feedback (whether it is positive or negative) is appreciated.

Review?