The Sea King tasted incredible.
That was the unanimous verdict reached approximately three seconds after the first bite.
Pintel sat cross-legged on the deck of the Black Pearl, shirt long discarded, grease running freely down his chin and dripping onto the planks. Tears streamed from his eyes from joy.
"It's… it's beautiful," he sobbed, chewing with the intensity of a man experiencing religion for the first time. "Why did no one tell me the sea king meat was this good? Why did we waste time on fish?"
Ragetti nodded furiously beside him, mouth far too full to form actual words. He made a low, reverent noise that sounded like a prayer being recited through clenched teeth. One arm was wrapped protectively around the massive bone he was gnawing on, hugging it like it might be stolen at any moment by cruel fate or Jack.
Gibbs ate slower.
Not because he didn't enjoy it—quite the opposite—but because he had lived long enough to respect good food. He cut the meat carefully, chewing with measured appreciation, eyes half-closed.
"This," he said after a moment, voice deliberate, "is better than most things I've eaten in my life. And I've eaten well."
Jack Sparrow took one bite.
He chewed.
He swallowed.
He stared at the slab of perfectly roasted Sea King meat in his hand, the juices glistening in the moonlight.
Then he grimaced.
"This," Jack announced, tossing the half-eaten piece aside and immediately grabbing a bottle of rum, "is absolute garbage."
He took a long, offended gulp.
Pintel gasped as if stabbed. Ragetti looked personally betrayed.
"You don't insult the fabled sea king meat," Ragetti snapped.
Jack squinted at him. "You didn't cook it right."
Ragetti crossed his arms, insulted on a spiritual level. "If you don't like it, you cook."
Jack barked a laugh. "Me? Cook? I am a captain."
Pintel wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "A captain who complains."
Jack pointed at him. "Careful. I'll demote you to sea bait for the sea kings."
Pintel shut up, though he imagined himself tied on the mast, and several sea kings drooling at him before Jack killed them.
Jack stared at him for a long second, sighed, and drank again. "We need someone who can actually cook."
Ragetti shrugged. "I could learn."
Gibbs shook his head solemnly. "You should learn from a book."
Ragetti froze.
"…I can't read."
Silence settled over the deck.
Even the waves seemed to pause out of respect.
Gibbs opened his mouth, then slowly closed it again. "…Right."
The topic was quietly buried.
For the rest of the journey through the Calm Belt, nothing came near them.
Sea Kings surfaced occasionally in the distance, massive shadows sliding beneath the glassy water like living mountains. One rose halfway out of the sea, revealing a monstrous eye and rows of teeth large enough to bite ships in half—then took one look at the Black Pearl.
At the bloodstained hull.
At the bones still lashed to the deck.
At the pirates lounging contentedly with full stomachs and rum bottles.
The Sea King slowly sank back beneath the surface, tail flicking once, as if reconsidering its life choices.
Eventually, the water began to move again, currents tugging at the hull. The air changed.
Gibbs stood at the helm, scanning the horizon with a practiced eye. "That's West Blue."
Jack leaned beside him, peering into the distance. "You sound confident."
Gibbs nodded. "I am. I've carefully looked at the maps we have."
Jack clapped his hands once. "Excellent. Dock at the nearest civilization. Preferably one with food that doesn't fight back. I don't want another day of back pain."
A familiar shadow passed overhead.
"NEWSPAPER!" Pintel shouted, pointing skyward.
The World Economy News seagull swooped down, wings spread—
—and pecked Pintel squarely on the head.
"Ow! What was that for?!" Pintel yelled, shaking his fist.
The seagull squawked indignantly and flew off, clearly satisfied.
Gibbs caught the bundle before Pintel could retaliate with something sharp and unfolded it.
Several papers spilled out.
So did posters.
They fluttered across the deck like dramatic confetti.
Pintel leaned over slowly. "Captain… that's you."
Jack's head snapped up. "What?"
He hurried over, tripped over a coil of rope, recovered with questionable grace, and snatched one up.
His first bounty poster.
"FORTY MILLION?!" Jack shouted, eyes blazing with delight. "That's… that's very respectable."
He admired the illustration carefully.
Jack Sparrow stood proudly on the deck of the Black Pearl, hat tilted just right, coat flowing dramatically in an imaginary wind, sword at his side, expression dangerously charismatic.
Jack wiped at an imaginary tear. "They captured my good side."
"These aren't photos," Gibbs said dryly. "They're drawings."
"Even better," Jack replied. "Artistic interpretation."
Pintel picked up another poster and immediately deflated. "One million…"
He turned it around.
The picture was just water.
"…They didn't even draw me."
Gibbs placed a hand on Pintel's shoulder. "They remembered you fell in."
Pintel sniffed.
Gibbs checked his own. "Ten million."
Jack nodded approvingly. "Good start."
Ragetti suddenly shouted, "HEY!"
They turned.
Ragetti held up his poster, face twisted in outrage.
The drawing showed him mid-scream, mouth wide open, teeth mismatched and exaggerated to horrifying effect.
"That doesn't even look like me!"
Pintel squinted. "I mean… the teeth are accurate."
Ragetti growled. "Five million for this?"
"At least you're visible," Pintel muttered.
Jack laughed loudly, basking in the moment. "Ah, fame."
Ragetti frowned. "Captain, your bounty is way higher than ours."
Pintel nodded. "You did beat both bear captains in one move."
"They were strong," Gibbs added. "And…" he paused. "There's something else."
Jack tilted his head. "Do go on."
Gibbs folded the paper. "Two years ago, someone fired a cannonball at the Pirate King's execution. And escaped alive."
Jack's smile froze.
"…Oh."
"They didn't forget," Gibbs said quietly.
Jack stared at his poster again.
Then he grinned wider. "Well. That explains the generous valuation."
Pintel pointed suddenly. "Island ahead!"
As the Black Pearl approached port, Pintel was assigned lookout duty—mostly because Jack told him to, and partly because everyone else agreed Pintel falling into the sea again would somehow summon another Sea King.
The Black Pearl docked smoothly.
Pintel stayed behind as lookout—under strict instructions not to fall into the sea—while Jack, Gibbs, and Ragetti stepped onto the dock.
Jack adjusted his hat, squared his shoulders, and smiled at the unfamiliar land.
"West Blue," he said cheerfully. "Let's see what trouble we can find."