He had a wooden leg, an eye patch and a hook for a hand. The bartender was curious.
“How did you get that wooden leg?” he asked.
The pirate took a swig of ale. “'Twas a terrible sea battle. I stood bravely, directly facing 12 ballistae. All they managed to hit was my leg.”
The bartender said “What about your hook?”
The pirate took another long swig. “Arrrr, twas the day the Aquilonian navy caught me. They tied me to the mast, I escaped by gnawing my own hand off.”
The bartender was growing sceptical.
“And how did you get that eyepatch?”
The pirate took another swig. “Twas a mutiny. Me own crew left me marrooned on a desert island. But I had no fear. I lay down on the sand to wait to be rescued. As i looked up, a seagull flew over and pooped in me eye.”
The bartender said “That’s ridiculous, no one loses an eye from bird muck.”
The pirate finished his ale in one gulp, and grimaced.
“Twas the first day with the hook.”
