Killian had just enough time before the bottle's arrival to scoff and shake his head.
"This old thing?" he questioned, lofting the hook and giving it a jingle. "More useful than meets the eye. Almost enough to thank that bloody Crocodile for cutting off me hand."
Almost.
But not for Milah. For Milah, Hook would hunt reptilian serpent across time and space, through portals and over distant, unimaginable realms. Until he ended the Dark One for good. Knowhere was simply one stop along his life's journey of vengeance. Every decade a sweeter, colder just rewards for that selfish, cowardly, pathetic entity.
Oh, good. Rum.
Lifting the bottle with still-present hand, Killian sunk his teeth into the cork, pulled, and spat it back onto the table.
"I'd say I've become rather adept at every day tasks normally takes a man two hands to accomplish. Including masturbation. Cheers, mate."