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So, picture this, right? Stumbled into one off Tortuga once—smelled like rum, sweat, an’ regret. Lass at the door, all curves an’ sass, givin’ me the eye. “What’s yer poison, love?” she purrs. Made me laugh, it did—happy as a clam, ‘cause who don’t like a warm welcome, eh? But then—THEN—some scurvy dog tried chargin’ me double! “Fuck you, you fuckin’ fuck!”—that’s what Monty’d say, an’ I near did too. Got me blood boilin’, I tell ya. Ain’t no pirate payin’ extra fer a wink an’ a tumble!

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Then, outta nowhere, this old lady on a bike cuts us off. I’m like, “Lady, you’re not in the Tour de France!” Timmy freaks out, slams the brakes, and we almost end up in the flower shop. I’m sweating bullets, but I can’t help but laugh. It’s like a scene from a comedy movie.