Words of the Constant
Argh. I'll put me ship buildin' skills t'work.
Have at ye!
B'gone y'scurvy dog!
Scurvy dog.
Thet b'nice.
Aye, that'll take the sting out.
A mighty poison infests thet one!
Th'worst kind o'hole.
Me mates tell me this be good fer me heart.
Seedy.
Seeds thet grow more seeds.
Ye couldn't fit a real ship in this.
Ye couldn't fit a real ship in this.
What scallywag left their poop layin' about!
Fer sailin' the skies.
'Tis not a boat, but ye c'n sail it.
Woodlegs liked tha other guy better.
A poor sky vessel.
Na good fer na'thin'.
I'll na fly't on me boat.
I've na need fer ballast.
'tas been pillag'd.
'tas been pillag'd.
Looks like I be maroon'd 'ere.
Now whut use 'ave I for a house plant?
This really be food?
Like lookin' in a cracked, greasy mirror.
They ain't much fer housekeepin'.
Thar'be adventure down thar.
'Tis a land Leviathan!
'es danc'd the hemp'n jig.
Argh! 'Tis but a tiny sea.
Steady as a ship inna storm.
Bigger than me crows nest.
That be'a strange sight.
Would make a good cannon ball.
I have a sweet no tooth.
Me ships cook used ta add a dash o'cinnamon.
A wee bit heavy fer a lantern.
I ain't th'farmin' type, but I do loves me some pumpkin...
Looks good on Woodlegs!
Shiny and valuable!
Twas a mighty maw on thet one.
Thar b'a drill.
Tis time fer a quackerin'!
Twitchy wee thing.
Stay in me pockets now.
Think they got treasures down thar?
Them lil' rabbits ain't comin' out.
Burnt to th'earth!