Dear Journal,
My last entry was really odd, eh? Why in the bloody hell would I go hitting on myself and call myself a bloody scoundrel? And I speak kindly of ol' Norrington! Oy, I seriously hafta lighten up on that Spanish rum. Strong stuff, it is. The most fiery of all firewater. I should write more often when I'm drunk, tho. Verrryyy nice handwritin'. I can actually READ it. An' I sound all proper-like, too...Which I didn't think was possible. Hmm...Ah, oh, well. When in doubt; Sing an' shout! And that's what I'll do!
B-b-baarrrbooosssaaaa....Why do yeee smeeelllllllll soooooo......B-b-bar-b...B-bossssaaaa...Ye smeellllll like biilllgggeee wattterrr and the prrriivvvyy after Giibbbsss had used iiitttt. An' whyyy can't I figure out whether or noootttt Barbossa is yerrr firrssttieee or lasssttiiieee naammiiieeeeeeee?!?! Yo-ARRGH!-ho!
Eh. Not a very catchy tune. I'll hafta come up with somethin' better later. But seriously...How the 'ell did I manage to pull off an Elizabeth Swann in my journal? I'll...Figure it out, sooner or later.
The French/Thef Rench/Theif Wrench (Still laughin' about 'Thief Wrench'! Ahahaha!) hasn't been seen for a li'l while. 'Tis a good thing, tho. They were really startin' to pester me guts out.
I saw the most interestin' li'l person in Port Royal t'day. His head was kinda big and his limbs a little short and he was dressed in a brightly colored costume. Gibbs told me he was a clown, but I thought clowns were just people dressed up all weird to make money. Then he explained that that's what parents say to little children, just so they dun' get scared. He said they're actually of a different race and their faces are permanently colored like that! An' they feed secretly off o' children when nobody's lookin'. Quite strange, eh? They walk 'round entertainin' kids all day an' then eat them at night? Gibbs says that's how they get to eat. Children aren't 'fraid of 'em so it's easier to catch 'em....Sounds a bit ridiculous to me. Mr. Turner told me that the little clown was just like the other clowns, but how could I believe that? That particular clown was only knee high! And then he told me that it was some kinda birth defect or somethin'. Wasn't a very entertaining explanation. I liked Gibbs' better. Has horror elements in it. To be honest, I think Gibbs had more Spanish rum than I did. Pshaw. Load o' nonsense he's talkin', aye? But ye never know...Ye never know...
Still haven't figured out how I pulled an Eliz. Swann in the journal. I'll keep writin' until I do.
Rumor has it that dearest Commodore got into a HUGE fray--Oooh! Rum! Spanish rum! My new favorite. MmMmMm...Where was I? Oh, I remember. Rumor has it that Norrington got into this ENORMOUS fray with the French. Got fatal wounds. I dun' feel bad for 'im or anythin'...But the story--Hold on, lemme drink a bit more...Dun' wanna spill it by tryin' to drink an' write all at once...Okees. But the story was bloody amazing. The surgeon drilled holes in the keel o' Norrington's ship and they began to--Ooh, big inkblot. Sorry. Hiccupin'. Anyways, the surgeon drilled holes in the keel, an' they started to sink. Luckily...They were...--DAMNED HICCUPING! Maybe if I drink a li'l rum they'll go away. Okay. Better. Luckily, they were rescued-- THEY AREN'T GONE YET! I heard if ye hold yer nose and drink rum it'll make the hiccups go away. Gonna try that. Hmm...Ahh...Two bottles empty already an' they still aren't gone. Bah. Now the story's all chopped up. Lemme start it again.
French people's surgeon drilled holes in the keel of Norrington's ship...Also nailed a chainshot and destroyed the mizzenmast. Luckily, they were rescued...By...A...Giant water gnome...Named Sally, if I'm rememberin' correctly. Anyways, Sally, the big water gnome, scooped Norrie an' his crew up outta the water. She tried to EAT the Commodore, but 'e tasted nasty so she spit 'im back out. Broke 'is ribs an' two limbs and I think a finger. His pinkie, to be exact. And then his fingernail, the one on the pinkie, said, "You're the most stupid Commodore! Why did I have to grow on...Grow on...Gro...........
Dear Jack's Journal,
He has passed out. This baker's dozen of empty rum bottles may explain why he had passed out. He invariably says that he is going to lighten up, but I have seen no such thing. Commodore Norrington IS indeed fatally wounded, and the French WERE responsible, but there was no water gnome or talking pinkie fingernail. Now that I've cleared that up, I will be shutting the journal and placing a pillow under Jack's head. Good-bye!
William Turner
My last entry was really odd, eh? Why in the bloody hell would I go hitting on myself and call myself a bloody scoundrel? And I speak kindly of ol' Norrington! Oy, I seriously hafta lighten up on that Spanish rum. Strong stuff, it is. The most fiery of all firewater. I should write more often when I'm drunk, tho. Verrryyy nice handwritin'. I can actually READ it. An' I sound all proper-like, too...Which I didn't think was possible. Hmm...Ah, oh, well. When in doubt; Sing an' shout! And that's what I'll do!
B-b-baarrrbooosssaaaa....Why do yeee smeeelllllllll soooooo......B-b-bar-b...B-bossssaaaa...Ye smeellllll like biilllgggeee wattterrr and the prrriivvvyy after Giibbbsss had used iiitttt. An' whyyy can't I figure out whether or noootttt Barbossa is yerrr firrssttieee or lasssttiiieee naammiiieeeeeeee?!?! Yo-ARRGH!-ho!
Eh. Not a very catchy tune. I'll hafta come up with somethin' better later. But seriously...How the 'ell did I manage to pull off an Elizabeth Swann in my journal? I'll...Figure it out, sooner or later.
The French/Thef Rench/Theif Wrench (Still laughin' about 'Thief Wrench'! Ahahaha!) hasn't been seen for a li'l while. 'Tis a good thing, tho. They were really startin' to pester me guts out.
I saw the most interestin' li'l person in Port Royal t'day. His head was kinda big and his limbs a little short and he was dressed in a brightly colored costume. Gibbs told me he was a clown, but I thought clowns were just people dressed up all weird to make money. Then he explained that that's what parents say to little children, just so they dun' get scared. He said they're actually of a different race and their faces are permanently colored like that! An' they feed secretly off o' children when nobody's lookin'. Quite strange, eh? They walk 'round entertainin' kids all day an' then eat them at night? Gibbs says that's how they get to eat. Children aren't 'fraid of 'em so it's easier to catch 'em....Sounds a bit ridiculous to me. Mr. Turner told me that the little clown was just like the other clowns, but how could I believe that? That particular clown was only knee high! And then he told me that it was some kinda birth defect or somethin'. Wasn't a very entertaining explanation. I liked Gibbs' better. Has horror elements in it. To be honest, I think Gibbs had more Spanish rum than I did. Pshaw. Load o' nonsense he's talkin', aye? But ye never know...Ye never know...
Still haven't figured out how I pulled an Eliz. Swann in the journal. I'll keep writin' until I do.
Rumor has it that dearest Commodore got into a HUGE fray--Oooh! Rum! Spanish rum! My new favorite. MmMmMm...Where was I? Oh, I remember. Rumor has it that Norrington got into this ENORMOUS fray with the French. Got fatal wounds. I dun' feel bad for 'im or anythin'...But the story--Hold on, lemme drink a bit more...Dun' wanna spill it by tryin' to drink an' write all at once...Okees. But the story was bloody amazing. The surgeon drilled holes in the keel o' Norrington's ship and they began to--Ooh, big inkblot. Sorry. Hiccupin'. Anyways, the surgeon drilled holes in the keel, an' they started to sink. Luckily...They were...--DAMNED HICCUPING! Maybe if I drink a li'l rum they'll go away. Okay. Better. Luckily, they were rescued-- THEY AREN'T GONE YET! I heard if ye hold yer nose and drink rum it'll make the hiccups go away. Gonna try that. Hmm...Ahh...Two bottles empty already an' they still aren't gone. Bah. Now the story's all chopped up. Lemme start it again.
French people's surgeon drilled holes in the keel of Norrington's ship...Also nailed a chainshot and destroyed the mizzenmast. Luckily, they were rescued...By...A...Giant water gnome...Named Sally, if I'm rememberin' correctly. Anyways, Sally, the big water gnome, scooped Norrie an' his crew up outta the water. She tried to EAT the Commodore, but 'e tasted nasty so she spit 'im back out. Broke 'is ribs an' two limbs and I think a finger. His pinkie, to be exact. And then his fingernail, the one on the pinkie, said, "You're the most stupid Commodore! Why did I have to grow on...Grow on...Gro...........
Dear Jack's Journal,
He has passed out. This baker's dozen of empty rum bottles may explain why he had passed out. He invariably says that he is going to lighten up, but I have seen no such thing. Commodore Norrington IS indeed fatally wounded, and the French WERE responsible, but there was no water gnome or talking pinkie fingernail. Now that I've cleared that up, I will be shutting the journal and placing a pillow under Jack's head. Good-bye!
William Turner