“If the pirate with a scarf had been more poetically minded he’d have thought that her eyes were like a thousand emeralds, glittering in a far-off pirate treasure chest. But he wasn’t, so he just thought that she had really really green eyes, a bit like seaweed.”

“Everybody clapped enthusiastically and Dr. Marx popped up from behind the podium, where he had been hiding all along. He was the hairiest man the pirates had ever seen. Several of the crew were actually worried for a moment that the Seaweed That Walked Like a Man had returned from one of their previous adventures to ambush them. His nose was hairy. His forehead was hairy. Even his hands were hairy. And his beard was a great bushy black number, which looked like he had sellotaped a bunch of cats to the bottom of his face and then frightened them with a loud noise.”

“It’s not really my fault. The problem is that my mouth just comes out with these things. And you can’t blame me for what my mouth does, can you? Curse this mouth. Do you think it might be possessed?'The Pirate Captain looked in the mirror and made his mouth into a series of shapes he thought looked demonic.”

“In his time the Pirate Captain had made a number of dramatic entrances of his own – not always intentional it had to be said, as quite often they were the result of him accidentally setting himself on fire – but even he had to admit that Cutlass Liz’s dramatic entrance set an extremely high dramatic-entrance standard.”

“The Captain’s boat inspections were always pretty slapdash, because they mainly just involved him looking at the ropes and planks and barnacles and then nodding to show that he approved of whatever they happened to be doing.”

“The Captain was wearing his best blousey shirt, his beard was gleaming in the early morning light and he’d polished all his gold teeth. As he strode manfully towards the shore, the only thing that could have make him look even more heroic that he already did would have been the theme to Flash Gordon playing in the background, but it was a hundred and seventy years too early for that.”

“I fear it is the end for us,’ wailed Marx as the bears inched closer. ‘Is this the way you saw yourself going. Pirate Captain:‘In fact,’ said the Captain grumpily, ‘it’s pretty much the exact situation I usually try to cheer myself up with when I’m in a bit of a fix. “At least you’re not about to be eaten by bears and/or fall into a replica volcano,” I tell myself. So now I’ve got to come up with an even worse scenario, which is a nuisance.”

“Here's your first problem," he said, pointing at a sentence. "'Religion is the opium of the people.' Well, I don't know about people, but I think you'll find that the opium of pirates is actual opium.”

“If the pirate with a scarf had been more poetically minded he’d have thought that her eyes were like a thousand emeralds, glittering in a far-off pirate treasure chest. But he wasn’t, so he just thought that she had really really green eyes, a bit like seaweed.”

“I’m making a list of when it’s acceptable for a pirate to cry. […] So far I’ve got: one - when holding a seagull covered in oil. Two - when singing a shanty that reminds him of orphans. Three - when confronted with the unremitting loneliness of the human condition. Four - chops. I’ve just written the word ‘chops’. Not really sure where I was going with that one. Any ideas?”

“If you knew how many hidden depths I had your pretty eyes would pop right out of your winsome face. Not literally of course - that would be disgusting. I wouldn’t envy the man who had to clean up a pair of popped eyes, especially given the state of this deck. I’m not sure we even have any cleaning products that work for popped eyes, although I suppose a general viscera cleaner would do the trick.”