blackbeard

ARRRRRRRRR, bucko, if ya knock on wood, me cutlass will knock on yer head, ya scurvy sea louse!

Ye deserve not the freedom to speak. Ye be the second biggest fool here, and would be advised to keep yerself silent, lubber scum! ARRRRRRR!!!!!!!!

Avast, ye! Ye be not awesome but lying scum, of the lowest order. If ye be seen here again, then ye will taste my steel. ARRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!

ARRR, this be fine with me, bucko, but ye be needin' ta dig 'er up first, an' ta take her shrunken head from me cabin. An' I do no' like me cabin's decorations ta be plundered by so lousy a lubber as yerself, sharkbait. ARRRRRRRRR!!!

I do be going ta use it ta sever yer head an' dance on yer grave. ARRRR!

Ye be a sentimental fool, who art too easily offended. If ye do no' stop yer silliness, then shiver me timbers, for ye be in fer a rough storm. ARRRRRRRRRR!

Arrr, me cutlass do say that yer head already be severed by its blow. Cower in defeat, ye headless fool! May yer body be eaten by the sea lice of Timbuktu, which be reknowned for the'r viciousness. Arrrrrrr!

Then ye be here for yer doom, lubber! Shiver me timbers if ye think that ye can do what ye want. Avast bucko! ARRRRRRRR!

Ye be a fool, who do be soon to be separated from yer head. ARRR!

An' ye, scum of the seven seas, I'll cut out yer tongue an' feed it to the sharks, ye scurvy-addled bucko... ARRRRR! Me mateys do be wishing to do ye a mischief, an' if ye be no' careful, ye may find yerself short several digits an' missin' yer head! Yo ho ho an' a bottle o' rum!

Yohoho mateys! Thar be a character here who do be a true lubbardly swab. I'll rip out yer heart an' dance to the beat, ye lice-infested swine... Prepare for yer doom! I'm off ta drink me a bottle o' rum shipmates, and then ta send aughraseye ta Davy Jones' Locker!

AAAARRRRRRRRR, matey! It do lie here: However, if ye be a true jolly sea rover, then ye be goin' ta drink a bottle o' rum. This be only fer lubbers an' scurvy bilge rats. Yo-ho-ho!

Thar be no need to thank me ye lubbardly scum.

ARRRR, matey, thar be great promise in what ye be sayin'. Yet if ye be a lubbardly cove who do be tryin' to cause alarm, ye had best take care, lest I do ye a mischief. Me cutlass do be ready to cleave yer cowardly skull in twain, if ye be the bilge rat which I do suspect.

Shiver me timbers, but me thinks that this lubber no ha'e a life. ARRRRRRRRRR