The Black Pearl was hidden in the rougher, rocky shores, the small life boat sneaking to a private dock where it wouldn't be noticed. The captain and his first mate Gibbs were the only visitors, for Anna Maria had refused to accompany them. "I be stickin' to the code if you happen to run into a bit of trouble, Captain," she had promised grimly before he left. Sparrow grinned and tapped her cheek before he lowered into the smaller vessel.
"I happen to know you'll be keepin' your word with that, missy."
As soon as the patrolmen had been carefully distracted by the friendly parrot, Sparrow and Gibbs slid into the back streets of Port Royal. "Where do you suppose we can find a good drink?" Gibbs asked quietly as Jack swaggered through the light crowd. A few faces stopped to see Jack's fashioned smile, as if they knew it from long, long ago, which they might have. "Captain?"
"There," Sparrow grunted before stopped in front of a small cart and donkey. An elderly man dressed in fine garb was directing those of a different class to drop boxes into the buggy. Sparrow inspected and recognized one of the cases; it was rum and the good kind. He motioned for Gibbs to follow him into the small alley. "Good afternoon, my good man," Jack greeted the important-looking one. He turned and gave Jack a disgusted glare.
"What can I help you with," he spat.
"I was just wondering where you're taking all of this lovely rum," he smoothly asked as Gibbs intercepted a case.
"These fine wines are for the governor's collection," he haughtily replied. Jack's eyes widened in delight.
"The governor? Governor Swann, then?"
"Yes. If you please, I must be on my way."
"Well then I'm glad I caught you," Jack mumbled while stepping in front of the man before he signaled the mule.
"Please get out of my way."
"You see, I was on my way to the Governor's place; we happen to be old friends." By now, Gibbs had the cart nearly inches from the ground with rattling bottles and had disposed of the previous caretaker. Jack quickly motioned behind his back while holding a toothy grin for Gibbs to take the donkey and disappear. The official just kept his eyes to his parchment between glancing up angrily at the distraction before him.
"I don't believe that for a moment His Grace would have anything to do with a rude and horrific character as yourself." Jack frowned comically, placing two matched index fingers over his lip while being sure to block sight of the grand theft behind him.
"Well, mate, you're terribly wrong, for I am a guest of His Lordship this very night. You're keeping me late, actually…" Jack began to turn and walk back towards the busy street but heard footsteps behind him.
"Where's…where's the cart?" the stuck-up merchant cried, "you saw the cart right here, where did it go?" Jack began to walk backwards while shrugging dramatically to the worried official. He stopped near a wagon full of old, rotting hay and hopped onto the end of its wooden bed. The pompous gentleman stood speechless as Jack leaned back against the soft pile. "Well, don't just sit there! Help me look for the cart that was just here!"
"I'm sure it will turn up," Jack sighed while reaching behind him into the mass. He pulled forth a slender crimson bottle filled to the neck with bubbling delight. The official gasped as Jack grinned and was driven away at a rapid pace by Gibbs at the front bench with a hitched horse. "Why, looky there! There she is, a little empty, but donkey and all!" With that, they fled through town to the port, rum and all.