Commodorely Angst

On board the ship where Elizabeth is hiding, the sailor dudes are sitting around arguing with each other.

Captain: Well, this sucks.

The Captain throws a ream of paper across the room.

Captain: With the government taxing us to death, we'll probably end up working for the East India something or other.

Christopher Lowsley-Hughes: We could always go to Tortuga.

Captain: No way. I'm an honest man, and I sleep well at night.

Joseph R. Shelton: Then why do I always hear you muttering about crazy banana-weilding leapard seals every night?

Captain: Bad dream, okay? That's not the point.

Suddenly, Elizabeth's dress is seen flying outside the window. Lowsley-Hughes sees it and points.

Lowsley-Hughes: Look at that!

The Captain looks and sees nothing.

Captain: Very funny, guys.

The dress flies by again, and this time the Captain sees it.

Captain: What did you guys put in the coffee?

Shelton: Nothing!

The sailors run outside and see the dress floating around all by itself. Er, no, wait, not by itself. Elizabeth is up on the mast controlling the dress with a coathanger and string. The dress points.

Captain: She wants me to do something.

Elizabeth makes the dress move so it knocks over a lantern and ignites the deck of the ship. The sailors, of course, are oblivious to the fact that their ship is on fire, and instead run after the dress and look over the side of the ship into the water.

Lowsley-Hughes: There's gotta be some sort of sign in the water.

Shelton: What's that there?

Captain: Looks like entrails.

Shelton: Eeww...

Lowsley-Hughes: That's probably a bad sign.

Elizabeth climbs of the mast, in disbelief at the stupidity of the sailors. Their ship was on fire for crying out loud and they couldn't think of anything better to do than look at entrails in the water.

Elizabeth: What's that over there?

The sailors look to where she is pointing and see the word TORTUGA written on the deck in fire. If that's not a sign, I don't know what is.

Jack and Gibbs are already in Tortuga, recruiting souls. Gibbs has a nice little table set up, and prospective crew members are standing in a line to join the crew.

Gibbs: And what makes you think we should hire you?

Old Geezer: I promised myself I'd be a sailor before my 100th birthday, and I'm almost out of time.

Gibbs: Splendid! Sign the roster. Next!

Drunk Guy: Me wife ran off with my aunt's dog and married the horse, and now I'm so drunk I don't care what happens.

Gibbs: Awesome! Sign the roster. Next!

Jack is sitting in the corner with his compass.

Jack: Please…?

He opens the compass. It spins wildly.

Jack: (pout face)

Sucker: I suck at life and I'm terrified of heights.

Gibbs: Marvelous! Crow's nest for you. Next!

Wannabe Sailor: I've never seen the ocean, but I hear it's nice this time of year.

Gibbs: Uh, sure. Sign the roster!

Wannabe Sailor: Yay!

Jack: How many is that?

Gibbs: Counting those four?

Jack: No duh.

Gibbs counts the names on the roster.

Gibbs: Four.

Jack: Great! Only ninety-five more to go!

Gibbs: Your optimism is vastly disproportionate to the actual progress we've made.

Another guy walks up to Gibbs's table.

Gibbs: And what's your story?

Norrington: I had a good job, good status, I was rich and successful, but then I got my ship destroyed in a hurricane. The governor wouldn't pay me to pout about it, so I quit my job and came here to do the only logical thing left and drink myself senseless.

Gibbs: I don't suppose you've ever heard of Prozac…

Norrington steals Gibbs's rum.

Gibbs: Hey, that's mine!

Norrington: Not anymore, sucker.

Jack recognizes the ex-Commodore's voice, sarcasm, or both, and hides behind a leaf.

Norrington: I'm usually a respectable man, and not a complete scoundrel given to violent tendencies, but in this case at least I can blame the rum.

Norrington overturns the table, then struts around the tavern like he owns the place, the way he used to do in Port Royal.

Norrington: I see you, Jack. I'm not that drunk. I know leaves can't walk.

Norrington aims his pistol at Jack, who is astonished that his disguise didn't work.

Jack: Um... you're hired!

Norrington: Then consider this a mutiny.

Jack: Not again.

Norringotn is just about to shoot Jack and end the movie when a random guy grabs his arm. The pistol fires off and breaks some guy's rum bottle. The guy looks at the guy sitting next to him, and logically, decks the guy. Everyone else attacks the person sitting next to them, initiating an all-out barfight. Norrington started it.

Jack: Let's get the heck out of here.

Gibbs: Right behind you.

Jack and Gibbs make their way out of the bar. Jack keeps stealing people's hats and trying them on.

Norrington has drawn his sword and is making a complete fool of himself by swinging it at anyone and everyone. However, he is much too drunk to be accurate, and isn't doing much damage. Elizabeth shows up and joins in the fighting. She and Norrington end up standing almost back-to-back against a pole, surrounded by sword-weilding Tortuga drunkards.

Norrington: I'll take you one-by-one, all at the same time! Then I'll take your rum! Drunk knows I'm not God enough!

Elizabeth takes his rum bottle and knocks him out with it. The bouncers chuck the unconcious ex-Commodore into the pigpen.

Mercer is creepin' in the doorway. Apparently he finds drunk guys fascinating. Or maybe he's trying to get the dirt on Elizabeth.

Elizabeth kneels next to Norrington in the pig crap.

Elizabeth: For heaven's sake, James, what's wrong with you?

Norrington: Well, for one, I'm completely plastered and that's an understatement. Two, you hit me over the head with a bottle. Three, I'm laying in pig crap. Shall I go on?

Elizabeth: No, that's a pretty good list.

Norrington: I don't suppose you have any aspirin, do you?

Elizabeth: No, it hasn't been invented yet. You're not supposed to take that stuff with alcohol anyway.

Revised edition 2011.