pirate comes to port and enters a bar. This pirate is one mangled mofo. He has a peg leg, a hooked hand and an eye patch. He sits at the bar and orders a bit of rum. The man next to the pirate looks at him, examining his wounds, clearly impressed.

“What happened to your leg?” the man asks conversationally.

“Arr, that be quite a story indeed. Twas not long ago me and me mates were sailing the spanish main and I fell off me ship. The water was infested with sharks and one of them fishy sea monsters took me leg. Arr." The pirate took a swig of rum and stared off into the distance, recalling a long lost limb.

The man at the bar is awe struck. For a moment he is silent, then curiousity gets the better of him. "Well," he asks, "then what happened to your hand?"

"Arr. Twas the english took me hand. We ran into Her Majesties' Royal Navy while pillaging the coast of Wales. A bloody battle ensued and in the fray a limey scalliwag cut me hand off with a sabre," the pirate recounted wistfully.

"Wow," says the man, but he can't resist asking: "What about your eye?"

"Arr. I was out to sea and I looks up at the sun. Then this seagull, she flies over and poops in me eye. Arr."

"A seagull?" asks the man, confused. "You wear an eye patch because a seagull shat in your eye?"

"Arr, twas the first day with me hook, it was."




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