Arg, it's lonely living 'ere in pirates cove. All me mates are up there, standing on the stage, singing, havin' a blast with the kids while Aye'm stuck 'ere with nothing but me rusty hook.

Aye remember them good ol' days, when the kiddies used to gather 'round, excitement in their young eyes as aye would tell them elaborate stories of my days as a pirate on the sea. But ever since the horrid "Bite o' ‛87", aye haven't had a kid look at me that way.

Aye envy them, sometimes. They are so happy, singing and chatting amongst themselves, while aye sit 'ere lonely and abandoned.

What's a fox to do?