Here lay the legendary pirate, Jack Sparrow, unconscious on the ground with a goose egg sized lump on his forehead, in front of James Norrington.
The fight had happened fast; first Sparrow had swung at James and while he was distracted with the pain, he had kicked him. However, James had slipped a bit of lead dust into the fingers of his left glove and hit Sparrow across the mouth and in the chest. It was cheating, he knew, but so was slipping a pistol into the make-shift pocket of his naval coat. Dirty fighting wasn't just for pirates.
James glared. The one chance he has to bring the noose over the neck of a notorious criminal and he starts feeling sorry for the man. It wasn't really fair after all, was it? Sparrow breathed unevenly. James hoped he had damaged something internally.Sparrow's finger, he also noticed, was bent oddly, probably broken.
Coup de grace: that was what it was called when you killed a man when he slept or, in this case, was in any other comatose state; kicking him when he was down. He knew that was dishonorable.
He put the pistol hesitantly against the red bandanna, making beads click and other hair ornaments glitter in the light. Damn. Even while he sleptSparrow seemed to radiate cockiness; a smirk seemed fighting to split his face.James thenaimed thegunat Sparrow's chest. Perhaps, maybe if it was painless, it would be justified. He gritted his teeth and glared. "Bastard, bastard, bastard." He knew he would regret it later but didn't care.
He tossed his pistol onto the unconscious body of Captain Jack Sparrow and Commodore James Norrington staggered up the stairs wondering why he was doing this and left. As far as he would admit, this never happened.