Project Type: Ballad of Captain Irene

Some days have passed since Irene has been made captain. JONES is stacking barrels on deck, absentmindedly. BAEDEKER enters, sneaking near to JONES. JONES looks up to see him, and awkwardly tries to avoid him. 

                              JONES: 
          Oh. Hello, capt — I mean, hello, b-Baedeker.

                             BAEDEKER:
          Good day, Jones. Fine time for, ah, counting 
          barrels, eh Pomegranate?
 
                              JONES:
          Oh, aye. I-It's a real a-ablactation ablepsia. 

                             BAEDEKER:
          Is it now? I suppose I'd agree with ye on that. 
     
                              JONES:
          Mm. Aye. Ah, Capt— I mean, Baedeker, Captain 
          Irene said that talkin' to ye would, ah, be a
          p-problem. I could get in a real moonmast mable, 
          s-sir. 

                             BAEDEKER:

         (leaning in slowly) Oh, aye, did she say that, 
         now? 

                              JONES:
         (leaning back as BAEDEKER leans in) A-aye, sir. 
         She said she'd cast a macaroon mandolin on me, 
         sir. 

                             BAEDEKER: 
         (leaning back out) Oh, a macaroon mandolin, eh?
         How awful. (he fake-pouts)

                               JONES: 
         A-aye, sir. 

                              BAEDEKER:
        Well, ye know what I think, Jones? (leans in 
        even closer)
 
                                JONES:
       (frightened) No, sir. I don't, s-sir.
 
                              BAEDEKER:
       (whispers) I don't think that's a very sound 
       decision.
 
                                JONES:
       (gasps, and backs away) S-Sir! The macaroon
       mandolin, sir!

                              BAEDEKER:
       Oh, I know about the mandolin, Jones. I know
       all about the mandolin. In fact, want to know
       another thing, Jones?

                               JONES:
       Not particularly, sir, but I feel like you're going
       to tell me anyway!
   
                             BAEDEKER:
       I don't even think she's fit to be captain of this
       ship and this crew!
    
                               JONES:
       SIR!
                                 
                             BAEDEKER:
       I doubt she's even a witch!

                               JONES:
       Sir, I don't think—

                             BAEDEKER:
       She's false, Jones. She's a liar. She's played us
       all for fools, Jones!
      
                               JONES:
       ...Sir?

                             BAEDEKER:
       Oh, yes, Jones. It's all part of her convoluted, 
       childish plan! She's a coward, and a liar, Jones. 
       And a thief!
                  
                               JONES:
       A thief, sir?