You're walking past a window and a bullet whistles past your head. You immediately …
…thank the high seas that the fellow had bad aim and I'd been unharmed. Course that don't stop him from trying to shoot at me again, but when you're drunk off rum and wanting to fight, chances are one's, well me actually, would be willing to get out of there without a scratch. After a while, he'd soon forget why he was wanting to kill me, and just go back to his drinking. 'Tis always the better choice of choosing the rum over the fighting I say.
Like any other man on this here island, I was just looking for a good time, but despite me best efforts, they'd always be picking the fights with me. I suppose I do have the charm that makes others jealous of me, what with me Black Pearl and all, but I wasn't here to duel. I'm not wanting to go to Davy Jones' locker any time soon and I'm not wanting to send anyone there today either.
After I bargained to settle the fellow's fury over a bottle of rum, we soon talked of many a wondrous things that included… well, I honestly can say that I don't remember a moment of that conversation, but if I'm not in a watery grave, then that night must've been a good one.
Word Count: 215