Welcome back to the hit "Someone Needs a Hug"! This week we shall watch as one interesting brunette decides to try to win the heart of Davy Jones. We all know this can't be done as it is in a chest somewhere, but we'll let her think it's possible.

"POTC 2: Dead Men's Chest" edition

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The young, attractive brunette pulled weakly at the oars of her rowboat. She was in the middle of the ocean, who knew where, and she had been rowing for hours. Was there no justice in life? Couldn't he see she had nowhere to go and was fair game?

Whoosh! The girl sighed in relief as a large shadow enveloped her sea craft. She turned, drinking in the sight of the familiar barnacle-encrusted ship as if it were her home away from home.

"Thank God! A ship!" she yelled a little too loud to be believable. "Throw me a rope, and I'll climb aboard. I swear I'll pull my weight on your ship." …of course, I don't weigh much, neither can I do much, she thought, but enough of that. All she needed was for him to believe she could do something to complete her mission.

A rope came down, but attached to it was a man, all covered in barnacles and clams with strings of the mollusks for hair. He arrived at the boat, grabbed her around her waist, and swung back up to the deck, dropping her in an undignified heap on the crusty boards.

He laughed as an ominous thunking was heard upon the same boards. The captain of this vessel lurched in his usual swagger across the deck. "Well done, Clanker. And what might we have here?" he cocked what would have been an eyebrow at the young lady who had very quickly stood up and attempted to brush the grit off her perfect attire.

"Captain Jones," she began. "I'm here to offer my services to you."

Davy Jones snickered at this statement. "Are you fully aware of what it is we do here, missy?"

"Aye, sir," the nautical language came a bit awkwardly to the girl, but she figured using his terms would help her case. "And I wish to offer my services, such as they are, because what she did to you was not right."

Jones bristled and took a few angry steps toward the insolent youngster. "I don't know what ye're talkin' about, and I'll have none o' that on my ship!"

"Sir, I mean no impertinence, but I do know about what torture she put you through and –"

"Did ye not 'ear what I said? I don't want to hear a word more, and ye're about this close" he held up his pincer, the edges about a half centimeter apart "to being chucked over the side where ye can face Judgment Day like any other human, ye ken?"

"I understand perfectly, sir… it's just that… she did you wrong, and it breaks my heart whenever I look into your eyes. Whenever I hear your song…" the young lady paused, obviously choked up. Jones appeared unimpressed, but thoughtful.

"So let's say I do accept ye. What nautical experience do y'have, miss…?"

"Dymphna. Ella Dymphna, and I'm pleased to be at your service, Captain Jones," she extended her hand in greeting. An idea flittered across Jones' face, unnoticed by the oblivious Ella.

"Ella, is it? What a charming name," the octopus-faced captain accepted her hand gratefully, encircling the dainty hand with his tentacle. "And I take it ye can learn quickly the ways of a ship?"

"I already know the ways of yours, captain," the girl smiled, hoping to impress her new captain. "All I need is your orders."

"Splendid," Jones grinned like a child with a new best friend. "Well, then, Ella…" With strength that belied his appearance, he yanked his hand hard towards the rail, throwing the unsuspecting girl into the frigid waters. "Ye should know the ways of the kraken. Have fun with him when he arrives. Mayhap he'll accept that friendly offer o' yours."

Ella jerked her hand out of the water in front of her face. The black spot. She groaned and laid back in the water. How could it all end this way?

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Oh, this one didn't even get to attempt a hug. Oh well, make sure to tune in next time on "Someone Needs a Hug".