Errol tosses his round face over the edge of the yam, ejecting juice and seeds into the ocean below. Captain Eggplant chuckles. "Th' sea too much fer yeh, Brandehwine?"

"I-I'm fine, Captain." Errol replies meekly. He wasn't fine at all. He had no idea the sea could be this rough. "H-how long til we dock again?"

"We're almos' there. Yeh e'er been ta France, tomaytoh?" The tomato looks back at his purple face.

"No, sir. I've never been outside of my town before. I'm told we may have been descended from the Amish."

"Yer a pirate now, tomaytoh. Don' go geddin all Amish on me now."

"No, sir. Of course not. So what's in France?"

"We have sum good friends who we like ter... trade with." Errol nods and looks across the deck seeing The Spear rubbing his face against the shiny floors, dinosaur-like shrieks of joy emitting from his mouth. Hemlock stands at the bow, watching the land draw ever nearer.

"Is Mr. Carrot always so on edge?"

"Sumtimes. Sumone he's known fer a long tyme lives 'ere."

"A friend?"

"No, Brandehwine. Have yeh e'er seen an amoeba?"

"I think so. You can see through them like when an onion peels, right?"

"Yes. If yeh see 'im 'ere, I wan' yeh ta run."

"Is he dangerous?"

"Mos'ly ta Carro'. Bu' all th' same. Stay away frum 'im."

"Yes, Captain." The Spear shrieks and Errol jumps.

"Go an' shine th' floor fer Spear, would yeh? Seems he's smudged it." Errol quickly scurries for his mop to clean the spot as The Spear crawls to the other side of the ship and finds a new reflective spot to stare at himself in. The Ship pulls up to the dock and Hemlock leaps onto the pier.

"Carro'!" Captain Eggplant calls after him to no avail. Hemlock heads to the market.

"I'll get you this time, Amoeba." He pulls his sword from his belt and whirls around, his sword meeting a rapier.

"Hon hon hon, Monsieur Carrot. You'll have to be quicker than that!" Hemlock's eyes narrow.

"Jean Paul Amibe. Let's settle this, shall we?"

"Oui. En garde, Monsieur Carrot. May ze best man win."