[Norrington doesn't notice the snort from Badou, or understand what he's saying, really -- but what else is new? – but if you think that bothers him you got another thing comin’, and he plows on (..........) in all his poor eighteenth-century ignorance.]
Well, I can HARDLY imagine a man getting his ol’ one-eye clawed by a bear is anybody’s idea of fun, though I don’t suppose much else can feel worse than losing all you have...even your ship... Maybe especially your ship...and...those—her t—
[But then Badou’s talking about other pussy and titties in the sea and Norrington knows he’s right—and the more Norrington blearily squints at Badou’s face, the freckles of which won’t stop moving to Norrington’s drunk-ass eyes, the more feeling of you should know who this weird ginge is grew ...............no homo..........or..... but of course the former naval officer was too drunk to pay it any attention so he set about working on the really important things, like lighting the cigarette.
Which took a long time. You can imagine.
Once he’d finally managed it, mumbling the whole way (something about tubs and how he didn’t remember what baths felt like, something that surprised absolutely nobody, I mean have you SMELLED that beard lately) he took a long, slow drag—which, of course, only resulted in no less than fifteen violent coughs from the seaman (lol). As a result, Norrington gracelessly yanked a beer from the six-pack...but couldn’t get it open, no matter how hard he hit the top of it with the rum bottle (which was, of course, making most of the rum slosh out).
So he took another, more successful, drag from the cigarette this time.]
Thanks for the fag, mate. Been craving one a while, even though I’ve never done it before. Just always looked like something a man in my state would need, yeah? I don’t think I’ve quite got the sucking down just right, though.
[his entire speech is riddled with coughs]
Worshipping? No, I don’t do all that. Well, unless you count the perfect breasts of Elizabeth Swann.
[and then it is the tears and snot for poor ol’ James and Badou all over again... (but it really never stopped)]
TRYING THIS AGAIN......
Well, I can HARDLY imagine a man getting his ol’ one-eye clawed by a bear is anybody’s idea of fun, though I don’t suppose much else can feel worse than losing all you have...even your ship... Maybe especially your ship...and...those—her t—
[But then Badou’s talking about other pussy and titties in the sea and Norrington knows he’s right—and the more Norrington blearily squints at Badou’s face, the freckles of which won’t stop moving to Norrington’s drunk-ass eyes, the more feeling of you should know who this weird ginge is grew
...............no homo..........or.....but of course the former naval officer was too drunk to pay it any attention so he set about working on the really important things, like lighting the cigarette.Which took a long time. You can imagine.
Once he’d finally managed it, mumbling the whole way (something about tubs and how he didn’t remember what baths felt like, something that surprised absolutely nobody, I mean have you SMELLED that beard lately) he took a long, slow drag—which, of course, only resulted in no less than fifteen violent coughs from the seaman (lol). As a result, Norrington gracelessly yanked a beer from the six-pack...but couldn’t get it open, no matter how hard he hit the top of it with the rum bottle (which was, of course, making most of the rum slosh out).
So he took another, more successful, drag from the cigarette this time.]
Thanks for the fag, mate. Been craving one a while, even though I’ve never done it before. Just always looked like something a man in my state would need, yeah? I don’t think I’ve quite got the sucking down just right, though.
[his entire speech is riddled with coughs]
Worshipping? No, I don’t do all that. Well, unless you count the perfect breasts of Elizabeth Swann.
[and then it is the tears and snot for poor ol’ James and Badou all over again... (but it really never stopped)]