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Bootstrap
Pirates of the Caribbean
Title: Bootstrap
Summary: Ragetti muses on Bootstrap Bill.
I wonder sometimes ‘bout Bootstrap Bill as I look down at the rippling water making way fer our ship. Is ‘e still there beneath those eddies, lying on the sea floor, a cannon strapped to ‘is bootstraps? Bootstraps bootstraps. Bit of a joke fer the captain when ‘e did that. Old Bill sank like a stone, as they say. There was a big splash, a great swirling of foam, and ‘e went down and down all the way to the bottom. Must be boring down ‘ere with no company but the fish. It might be too dark for ‘im to even see ‘em. No moonlight down ‘ere. No fish swimming through ‘is ribs or circling ‘is spine. Nothing but the darkness.
Maybe ‘e escaped. Broke the ties binding ‘is bootstraps and swam away. Or ‘e could ‘ave walked along the sea floor. I’m not sure if ‘e could swim or not. It would have taken ‘im a long time to reach land; we dropped ‘im far from the coast. ‘e might be wandering on some beach somewhere, unable to feel the refreshing coolness of the water lapping at ‘is feet, the warm, salty breeze on ‘is face, the scorching sun burning ‘is skin. If ‘e hadn’t sent that coin to ‘is kid Pinters and me would be free men. We could be feasting on food so delicious that our tongues would dance in our mouths; savoring the sweet burn of rum as it flows down our throats; enjoying everything we used to enjoy, the warmth, the kisses, the long caresses when the others were asleep. Pinters always was the only pleasurable company I ever needed.
Bootstrap said we deserved to be cursed. Why? We’re not the first pirate crew that mutinies against its captain. Why should Pinters and I be cursed? It wasn’t our idea; we just went along with wot Barbossa an‘ the others did. Though Pinters didn’t seem to like Jack Sparrow very much. Bootstrap ‘imself ‘ad a hand in it. ‘e might have said something of it in the beginning, but ‘e went along with us in the end. Then after we was cursed ‘e got righteous and condemned us all. Condemned ‘imself too. Stupid blighter.
At least we’re up ‘ere and ‘e’s down there. If ‘e’s still down there. Most times I wish ‘e did escape so that maybe we’ll find ‘im at one of the ports we dock at. Then at least we’d ‘ave half of what we need to get rid of the curse. But sometimes I don’t. Sometimes I think Pinters is right in saying that Bootstrap deserves to be down there for double crossing us the way ‘e did. For prolonging this cold agony that holds us captive. We may never be able to get rid of it now. We’ll be trapped in this hell for eternity. An eternity of emptiness, of hunger, of thirst, of feeling nothing. We didn’ deserve that. Sometmes when the moon is shining on my pale bones and ‘unger is gnawing at my withered flesh, I look at the vast darkness o’ the sea, and wish that ‘e is still there.
Title: Bootstrap
Summary: Ragetti muses on Bootstrap Bill.
I wonder sometimes ‘bout Bootstrap Bill as I look down at the rippling water making way fer our ship. Is ‘e still there beneath those eddies, lying on the sea floor, a cannon strapped to ‘is bootstraps? Bootstraps bootstraps. Bit of a joke fer the captain when ‘e did that. Old Bill sank like a stone, as they say. There was a big splash, a great swirling of foam, and ‘e went down and down all the way to the bottom. Must be boring down ‘ere with no company but the fish. It might be too dark for ‘im to even see ‘em. No moonlight down ‘ere. No fish swimming through ‘is ribs or circling ‘is spine. Nothing but the darkness.
Maybe ‘e escaped. Broke the ties binding ‘is bootstraps and swam away. Or ‘e could ‘ave walked along the sea floor. I’m not sure if ‘e could swim or not. It would have taken ‘im a long time to reach land; we dropped ‘im far from the coast. ‘e might be wandering on some beach somewhere, unable to feel the refreshing coolness of the water lapping at ‘is feet, the warm, salty breeze on ‘is face, the scorching sun burning ‘is skin. If ‘e hadn’t sent that coin to ‘is kid Pinters and me would be free men. We could be feasting on food so delicious that our tongues would dance in our mouths; savoring the sweet burn of rum as it flows down our throats; enjoying everything we used to enjoy, the warmth, the kisses, the long caresses when the others were asleep. Pinters always was the only pleasurable company I ever needed.
Bootstrap said we deserved to be cursed. Why? We’re not the first pirate crew that mutinies against its captain. Why should Pinters and I be cursed? It wasn’t our idea; we just went along with wot Barbossa an‘ the others did. Though Pinters didn’t seem to like Jack Sparrow very much. Bootstrap ‘imself ‘ad a hand in it. ‘e might have said something of it in the beginning, but ‘e went along with us in the end. Then after we was cursed ‘e got righteous and condemned us all. Condemned ‘imself too. Stupid blighter.
At least we’re up ‘ere and ‘e’s down there. If ‘e’s still down there. Most times I wish ‘e did escape so that maybe we’ll find ‘im at one of the ports we dock at. Then at least we’d ‘ave half of what we need to get rid of the curse. But sometimes I don’t. Sometimes I think Pinters is right in saying that Bootstrap deserves to be down there for double crossing us the way ‘e did. For prolonging this cold agony that holds us captive. We may never be able to get rid of it now. We’ll be trapped in this hell for eternity. An eternity of emptiness, of hunger, of thirst, of feeling nothing. We didn’ deserve that. Sometmes when the moon is shining on my pale bones and ‘unger is gnawing at my withered flesh, I look at the vast darkness o’ the sea, and wish that ‘e is still there.