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A blue haze seeped through the thinning fog, the moon shining so bright that the sailors were able to see far in front of them. The crew of the Black Pearl had been sailing about the coast of a small island for a while now, waiting for Jack. In the distance, they made out a figure rowing in a coffin towards them.
A skeleton's leg was thrown over the side and placed into the waiting hand of Mr Gibbs. Hauling Jack over, he helped him stand while Cotton draped a coat on the captain's shoulders.
"Not quite according to plan," said Gibbs.
"Complications arose, ensued, were overcome."
Gibbs stuffed the leg into Cotton's arms and chased after Jack. "You got what you went in for, then?"
"Mm-hmm." From his belt he pulled out an object, waving it about. But stopped short when part of the crew blocked his way.
"Captain, I think the crew, meaning me as well, were expecting something a bit more . . . shiny, what with the Isla de Muerta going all pear-shaped, reclaimed by the sea, and the treasure with it."
Leech nodded, crossing his arms. "And the Royal Navy chasing us around the Atlantic."
"And the hurricane," Marty added.
The group shouted their agreement, all feeling the same.
"All in all, it seems some time since we did a speck of honest pirating."
Jack waited a moment before answering Gibbs. "Shiny?"
"Aye, shiny."
"Is that how you're all feeling then? That perhaps dear old Jack is not serving your best interest as captain?"
Cotton's parrot squawked. "Walk the plank!"
Rounding on the bird, Jack aimed his pistol at it, ready to finally kill the dreaded bird. "What did the bird say?"
"Do not blame the bird. Show us what is on that piece of cloth there," Leech demanded.
Suddenly, Jack the Monkey appeared in front of them, his undead form making Sparrow flinch and shoot at it. But it climbed down from the rope and snatched the cloth Jack had stolen. Thinking fast, the pirate grabbed Leech's pistol and continued to shoot at the monkey.
"You know that don't do no good," said Gibbs.
"It does me."
Marty picked up the object the creature dropped when it scurried off into the rigging. He glanced at the cloth for a second before telling the others what was on it. "It's a key."
"No. Much more better," Jack explained, taking the cloth back. "It is a drawing of a key." He held it up and the crew came closer, peering at it. "Gentlemen, what do keys do?"
