FADE IN:EXT: DAY
Jack twirls his diamond- or shall I say formerly diamond ring about his pinky, where he has taken to wearing it throughout the years. While the metal is tarnished but still intact, the large rock has been forcibly removed.
He docks at a port that seems better suited for his "ship" than a real one. The dilapidated planks look less than trustworthy, but when he tests them, they hold, though with a worrying melody of groans and creaks. But with an unperturbed shrug and a final swig from the omnipresent bottle, he leaps out of the boat and saunters his way to the shore.
A badly paved and since neglected road is what lies ahead. A few shady characters, nursing bottles of their own, give no more recognition than a glare as they go by Jack. With each passing resident, he grows a little more jumpy and a little less confident. And who can blame him. With his dandy duds, he doesn't look as if he'd hold much influence in this here town.
The entire place seems to consist of just this one street, with dark, uninviting storefronts. The deserted port is mirrored: likewise there's next to no habitants. Oddly enough, as sparse as they are, they're all men. None of the buxom babes found on Tortuga are to be found.
While puzzling this over, Jack plows headfirst into a rather menacing looking fellow by the name of Fuego. Large and with a very thick Spanish accent, Fuego is a force to be reckoned with. Staring stonily at Jack, he awaits an apology.
JACK
(Trying to be flippant)
Sorry mate. Balance isn't what it used to be, suppose I.
FUEGO
Perhaps you should tell why you have intruded upon this island. Buccaneers don't often come by these shores.
JACK
(Fear winning out)
Well that's quite a funny story, actually. I came to this lovely isle to in a way, get back my ship so that I don't got to sail (pointing at his cleverly spun together little craft) that one any more.
Fuego holds up a hand, and Jack immediately stops.
FUEGO
I didn't ask for a tale, I asked for la verdad- the truth-and as I think of your name.
JACK
Cap'n Jack Sparrow?
A moment passes and then Fuego begins to chuckle, a deep base laugh that shows true mirth.
FUEGO
All right, you win. Keep your identity a secret, fine by me. I be Fuego, if you needed to know. (With another laugh) But Probably not, considering why you here, enh?
Fuego wraps his arm about Jack's shoulder, and drags him along down the street. Jack attempts to laugh along, but only can manage a petrified smile and a bit of wheezing. He is in a twilight zone of sorts; a place where no one's heard of Jack Sparrow? Alarming. And a place where Jack Sparrow doesn't inspire both irritation and revulsion from everyone? Even worse.
Still chuckling slightly, Fuego deposits Jack, who unsteadily looks up to see where he's been brought. The only place that's looked lively on the whole damn island so far, the grungy sign reads Bar de Señora Jack Sparrow.