*grumblegrumblegrumblehissspitgrumble* *head sunk on paws*
Last Mate Dammit (plunks self down on bench. cuddles up): meeyarr, Furst Mate Nitro. *lick* ye be in a right foul mood t'day. what be thy prollem? *lick* we be huddled up in a truly fine snuggery (although i be some wary as to th' speed o' the service) wi' a nexcellent array o' potions to soothe the savage soul, an' vittles fit fr' a piratekingcat!
Nitro the Red: i'll be thankin' ye t' quit slurpin' me. i be not subject to yer blandishments. *cuff* *lick*
Last Mate Dammit: hah! ye licked me back, din'tcha?
Nitro the Red: *rolling, stretching* aye, that it would. he hath been no little moody since that calico ladycat bid him take hisself out onna next tide when we visited th' Catnip Isles. he were right put out, an' t'wouldn't surprise me a bit did it haff summat t' do wif our wee mishap last month. he were drivin', ye know.
so, sonnydammitjim, let us see this map. *finally raises head from paws*
*eyeballs roll wildly* OOOOOOO! a FEVVER!!!! *claws slice through the air, he leaps to the table, the feather becomes unmoored from its inkwell, and an errant breeze from an open window wafts it aloft where it makes its way outside* *coiled spring steel muscles in Nitro's hindquarters take over, and he, too, is aloft and on his way through the window*
Last Mate Dammit: big bruvver! big bruvver!! will ye not wait fur me?? i cannot jump as far as ye ... *scurries over table and onto floor. skittering for all he is worth, he rounds the bar and vanishes out the door*
big bruvver!!! ... big bruvver!!! ... big bruvver!!! *fade out*