[Edward stares at him in deep confusion for another moment, before he scrubs his hand over his face.] All right, what do you think of when I say booty, because I've a feeling we're thinking of two very different things.

[In Edward's head, when he dreams of booty, he dreams of a ship sitting pretty on the ocean, stuffed to bursting with gold and treasure to the point of nearly capsizing. It's a fantasy and he knows it, but still.]

I've seen wooden fingers, and one man I know wore an iron hand around. I suppose a hook would be intimidating, aye, but then how would you reload your guns? It already takes too bloody long to reload them with two working hands. [Edward, you need to buy better guns.]

I didn't know we were so popular out in Hollywood. Back in my day, they would've liked to see us hanged and then stuffed into gibbets.