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Jes fer posin', what be this havin' to do wit' oil? As for greetin' a fellow pirate, be like me wee mate 'n rub his wee belly, be a-clickin' here ye scurvy dogs! Arrr.

Arrrr. Dupe. Arrrr.

Arrrr, ye be a-lookin' fer 'Museum' er 'nother model? Avast! Downwind to page 7. Ye might be tryin' yer local jewel merchant fer estate pieces, iffin' your's truly 'asn't been past thar lately! Arrrr.

Arrrr, now that be a mighty fine passage fer sure, mates! Be minding those land caravels laden with timbers. They begets in yer wind an' slows ye down a mighty! Jes' you be mindful too, of Her Majesty's patrols les' ye be findin' yerselves tossed in a ponton! May ye find the winds abaft and...

Arrr. Ye means ta be foolin' me, mate? Thar's fake pirates about these waters? Give 'em up - been needin' ta crack me ol' Bosun's cane a bit! 'N fer those be enjoyin' such pervertibles, me maties be mor'n happy ta sling some hempin' o'er the yard, aye they wouldst! Arrr. Be speakin' 'n...

Tank cover? Ya be a-fixin' the straps to the allen bolt that be holdin' in the black side panel directly below the tank and strap buckle. Ye be needin' to lance a hole in the strap fer the bolt, too. Arrr. Tank Bag? Dem thar D rings aft the side pockets be fer a fancy shoulder belt for the...

Aye, laddies, yer be ticklin' me funny bone more 'an The Queen be pictured as a beauty! Arrr. Jes be puttin' in the cheapest stuff fer yer Doubloons, akin ta what be recommended fer yer schooner by it's shipwright. Be changin' it on the Sothic cycle 'n yer be keen to runnin' long the fair...

Aye, nothin' beats a fair wind 'n stout sail. Now, as fer Mr. Constant Mesh, I be thinkin' him to be one, mighty fine fisherman! Arrrrr.

Arrr, be as frequent as a Bayamo gale 'round the tip o' Granma. Show's 'em me palm an' should that not be workin', I be keepin' a few farthings about the helm. A quick toss o'er me parrot will be backin' 'em up faster 'n drunken sailor a'chasin' a wench af'er voyage 'round the Horn! Aye...

Arrrr, I be posin' iffin it not be akin ta what be in this here magic paintin' then yer be addled, mate, not ta be puttin' on the Black Spot and toss that wench inta thar briney deep! Arrrrr. Fair winds to ye, laddy!

Good Sir, I reckon ye not be jestin' 'bout date codes. Arrrr. Me tooks a ponderous voyage through the Sea of Google an' plundered this booty. Arrrrrr. Avast, ye land lubbers an' peruse yer way abaft to 'bout midway or so! Arrrrrrr!