Jack stood at the helm of his ship, the Black Pearl, singing his favorite song. "…Really bad eggs." His face became thoughtful. "Always thought I made good eggs. No one's ever complained to me before about how I cooked my eggs. Gibbs!"
A man with graying hair tied back in a pigtail and the becomings of a beer belly hurried up to his captain. "Aye, Cap'n?"
"Mr. Gibbs," Jack drawled. "Do you think," he paused, "that I make bad eggs?"
Gibbs frowned, confused. "N-no, Cap'n? That is to say," he grinned, "I've never known you to even know how to cook!" Jack's face fell.
"Very well, Mr. Gibbs. Next time we get to port, we shall order eggs. And I shall make you some eggs. And we will get chickens too. Lots of chickens!" He leaned in towards Gibbs, conspiratorially and said in a lower voice, "So as to make," he made an odd gesture with his hand, "the eggs."
Mr. Gibbs smiled and nodded then said, "Aye, Cap'n. Eggs, we shall have." He went off smiling, but as soon as his captain was out of view, he shook his head in wonderment. Still, Jack was a good friend, and one should never question a good friend's sanity.
Satisfied with having had the egg bit cleared up, Jack opened his special compass. The one that pointed him to wherever his deepest desire lay. The little arrow spun and came to a rest, pointing at…him?
Good God, I'm not a eunuch! Jack thought with horrified revulsion. He looked around to make sure no one had seen this. Directly behind him was a bottle of rum. Oh. He took a swig and tried again. This time the arrow spun around crazily. This thing was so infuriating!
"I know what I want. I know what I want. I know what I want!" he chanted to himself. He opened it. Still spinning. No wait, it stopped! … At the rum again. He'd try again later.
"Pintel! Ragetti!" Jack shouted. A short, round pirate who was bald on the top of his head with greasy strands running around the perimeter slid down the mast.
"Yes, Cap'n?"
Jack appraised him thoughtfully, slapped his hands on his knees and stood. "Where's your one-eyed friend?"
"He's busy swabbing the deck, sir."
"As should you be!" When Pintel didn't move, Jack made a shooing gesture. "Go on, make sure my ship is clean."
The shorter pirate gave his captain an odd look then shrugged and went to help his friend.
Back in his room, Jack tapped the lid of his compass. "Come on. Come on. Work!" Spin.
What did he want most? Hmm. Right now, surprisingly nothing came to mind. Gold was out of the question, as he feared that the tempting metal would curse him. Diamonds were over done. Pearls, well, he already had his pearl. The sea was his sapphire. How about red? Yes, something red.
"Rubies are red," he said aloud to himself. "And shiny." That settled it, his most desperate desire was now to own the world's largest ruby. The arrow spun and pointed northwest.
"Gibbs!" he shouted again.
Gibbs came to the open door. "Aye, Cap'n?"
Jack grinned. "We have our heading."