Author's Note: Completely refurbished with more or less the original parts.
- Takes place after the events of Guilt Trip.
- This style portrays Cotton's thoughts/words.

Disclaimer: I don't own Pirates of the Caribbean. Only this here…uh…stapler.

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"A cinema?!" cried a less than perky Captain Jack Sparrow as he stormed into his cabin, Anamaria following closely on his heels. The dark woman sighed as Jack began to stomp his leather clad feet against the protesting floorboards. He shrieked again, emphasizing his mounting displeasure by launching an empty bottle at the warped door.

"I was going to refill that…"

"Anamaria!"

"Yes?"

"Yes? What do you mean yes?" He practically burst into flames at her simple answer, the swear-fest beginning anew, ending abruptly though when Jack invented a new word.

"Jack, if it fills your purse…"

His jaw hit the floor, "It most certainly is not a man-purse!"

"Don't change the subject."

"I…You…I…It's…"

"You bet."

He swore again, throwing open the door and greeting his nosy crew with the worst scowl known the humankind. Cotton glared back just as deadly, matching Jack's hateful look with vigor. Jack growled in the elder's face.

"Fine! I'll do it! Under one condition…"

All came to attention to hear Jack's announcement; the flamboyant pirate swaying gently with the steady rocking of his vessel, as he perched his hands on his hips and leaned forward.

"You all have to go with." He said with a flashy grin and boyish whisper, exposing several gold-capped teeth to the shocked spectators.

"Jack!" cried Anamaria, "You can't do that!"

"And why not, woman?"

Anamaria seethed, wound up her arm, and missed him by a long shot. Jack skirted away to the left, thinking he had escaped her fury this round, but instead of escaping, Jack received fury straight in the groin courtesy of a free swinging iron candle holder (courtesy of Cotton's bloody parrot's funeral!)

Jack crumpled to the deck like a sack of potatoes. Or dead parrots.

Cotton then had the nerve to grin, triumphantly at that, as he kneeled above the fallen captain. The captain, in question, shook from his pain-driven stupor and lunged, attacking Cotton with a verbal grenade.

"What? Lose your nads too?"

Cotton snapped upright, the sneer in Jack's wheezed words making his blood boil.

I hate you!

"Yeah?! Well so do I!"