“By Neptune’s beard…we’re hopelessly lost, Cap’n.”
“What say ye? Son of a slithering serpent…”
“T is true, me Cap’n…without the Compass…”
“Aye, and you’re bloody daft, man -
The bloomin’ compass is here afore me!”
“Yeoman Bosun…tie the scurvy dog to the yardarm
And give me the cat ‘o’ nines!”
“Wait, Cap’n, ‘tis the wrong compass ye gaze.”
“Speak quick, lad, ‘ere I peel ya like a purple grape!”
“T is not ‘that’ compass Cap’n…
'T is our ‘moral compass’ that’s lost”
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