Aye, you there.
It’s been quite a long time, hasn’t it? Hardly even recognize you anymore -- you may want to remove some of that grime off your filthy face -- but perhaps, hopefully, you may recognize me. Captain Jack Sparrow -- do not forget the “Captain” -- lest you want to keep your other foot, mate.
Now then, shall we, as fellow pirates, have a pirate-to-pirate confabulation? As I always say, why fight when you can negotiate? You see, my situation is rather simple. My tremendous intuitive sense of the female creature informs me that Lady Luck herself is apparently feeling quite irate -- shall we say, vexed at my schemes, you see. In layman’s terms: my luck’s slipping.
How, you ask? All sorts of ways! Fell into a bucket of chum the other day, if you might ask, and now my threads are redolent of the seas. And you should have seen my last few poker games. Poker’s a game for dishonest men, and a dishonest man you can always trust to be dishonest, honestly. It’s the honest ones you want to watch out for, and a dishonest man, such as yours truly, can easily pick out the blithe honesty in those honest men. In short, when they bluff, I can always tell, mate. Up until these uh… last few weeks.
And now I’m short some … ahem, unspecified amount of gold, and now we’re having this conversation. Got it? Good.
But, to my point! Every pirate knows that St. Patrick’s day holds some intangible, mysterious force of nature that grants a man his lucky shoes. Whether it be a kiss from Lady Luck herself or some strange Irish sea witch’s curse -- doesn’t quite matter to me, lad. Come that fated day, I need you to help me retrieve my lost luck. Savvy?
Agree, and I can cut you a share of my wins. A small share, of course, but I’m sure a pirate like yourself can get by. Not like your ship repairs are expensive with that … dinghy of yours. Now, go on. I’ve got to go get a bouquet of flowers for that moody lass Lady Luck. Anything helps, right?
Yours Truly,
Captain Jack Sparrow