"Arrrrrgghhhh," said Brigitte the Shark. "Shiver me timbers."
"What?" said the bear standing next to him on the quayside.
"I said 'Arrrrggghhh, shiver me timbers'"
"What on earth does that mean?"
"Well."
"And anyway, you're a shark, why are you dressed up as a pirate?"
"I am a pirate, and."
"But sharks and sharks and they attack pirates, they are not actual
 pirates!"
"LOOK MATEY," interrupted Brigitte suddenly, "I don't have time to stand
around here discussing the lexicological subtleties and nuances of the word
'pirate'; the fact is I am one, and my timbers are shivering, which means
they are cold, which means the wood on my ship, which is clearly visible
from where we are standing, is half sinking in the freezing sea. Now, I need
the name of a good ship repairman, do you know of any?"
The bear gazed over to what was allegedly this pirate's ship, trying to warm
himself on what was meant to be a summer's day, but it was still quite
chilly.
"'S too late, methinks," he murmured, studying the vessel as if it were a
confusing lesson plan. "You need a new ship, mate, this one's beyond its
MOT."
"I had ten months on the MOT, plus a year's tax."
"Not bad, but you still need a new ship if you intend on pirating round
these shores," said the brown bear, looking increasingly disgruntled at the
new visitor. "Would you care to look at my showroom? I have the new
Mazda-323 in stock for a bargain price!"
"Thanks, matey, but it'd be easier just to steal one, wouldn't it?" Brigitte
looked around at the moored ships. "I want that one!" he said, pointing to a
tall boat, elegantly lined with the top-of-the-range cannons and navigation
equipment.
"Naaa, y'can't have that one, mate, it's an HMS. Government-owned, top class
sailors, latest designer fashions."
"Who's the captain?" asked Brigitte.
"Why, don't you know, it's ..

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