...What soft hands you have. [Perky! And now he'll be maneuvering his body in such a way that he ends up behind her with an arm hooked around her neck and a gun--a fake plastic one, actually--pointed to her temple. He speaks beside her ear.]
Now, now, love. Firstly, as a spitfire beautiful buxom salty trollop you are, you'd be best fit having it off in me cabin. Second to Firstly, I love women. I love looking at women. I love looking at women with other women with other women, preferably with Swannish locks and who's possibly frightening and has a terrible memory to boot, so there will be no snatching of the Sparrowly windows of the greasy soul today.
And Thirdes... [Pause] ...Do you know where the rum is?