Yellowbeard

Now I am the richest person in the world.

I am the richest person in the world.

Now I am the richest person in the world.

I am the richest person in the world. I am...

Mi capitn, not another ship in sight.

Yes, King Carlos should be very pleased.

Tell me, who is more important to please...

the King of Spain or God?

Well, God, of course.

And who is God's personal representative

in this vicinity?

Well, you are, Your Blessed Rectitude.

Well, God wants to keep all of it.

But...

And anybody who dares "buts"

God's personal representative...

will soon find his head pierced

and his neck stretched...

and will go on to meet God very quickly!

Which is more than anybody

could reasonably hope for...

Your Holy Ruthlessness.

Instead, you may bang your head

on the floor until forgiven.

Congratulations, Captain Yellowbeard.

- I'm glad my plan was a success.

- Your plan, my gold.

Hands off my treasure, Bosun Moon!

I said hands off!

Do I have to do everything myself?

Come now, don't slow down.

- Step over him.

- Move it.

- Step out of the way.

- We've got another one here now.

Over here.

Bloody hell, another one. Bloody witches.

Corpses, corpses, all day long. Never stops.

You know, Gilbert, being a prisoner's

not what it was when I came in here.

Here we go.

Whimpering poncies.

They get a leg broken and they faint.

A few fingernails pulled out,

they start crying.

When they stretched me on a rack

for a couple of years...

I didn't go around dying all over the place.

Pathetic. Taking the easy way out like that.

How do you mean exactly?

Dying. He'd only been in 15 years.

You won't catch me dying.

They'll have to kill me before I die.

Many a man has tried, Captain Yellowbeard.

And soon you will be at large again.

With a hand-picked crew

of the hardest buccaneers...

that have ever stained

the seven seas with Spanish blood.

It was most unjust I thought,

locking you up for...

merely doing your duty.

Twenty years for killing 5,000 dagos

and frogs.

Betrayed by me right-hand man,

that bastard Moon.

But he never found out

where you hid the treasure, did he?

No! Nor will he ever.

Where did you hide the treasure, actually?

You won't catch me

with those trick questions.

What really pisses me off, is...

- What is it now?

- You've got a visitor.

I expect that'll be the Queen

with my pardon.

- Hello, sugar drawers.

- What, you again?

Again? I haven't seen you for 15 years.

What is it this time?

Well, what with you being let out

next week...

I thought it was my duty as a wife

to bring you up to date on a few things.

Now, do you remember just before

you were arrested we were having a cuddle?

- I was raping you, if that's what you mean.

- All right.

- Sort of half cuddle, half rape.

- Get on with it, woman!

Well, I haven't told you this before,

because I wanted him to be brought up...

like a gentleman and not a pirate.

Who are you talking about?

- The fruit of your loins, sugar drawers.

- Are you mad, woman?

I haven't got fruit in my loins.

Lice, yes, and proud of them!

It means that we have spawned a son.

Done what?

You have just become the father...

of a 20-year-old bouncing boy called Dan.

A son. Takes after me, does he?

Well...

By the time I was 20, I'd killed 500 men.

Well, he's not quite so extroverted as you,

but he's...

- A thief?

- No.

- A rapist?

- No.

- Bloody hell. I give up. What is he then?

- He's a gardener.

A gardener? A Yellowbeard gardening?

I'll see about that when I'm out.

- What is it now?

- Time's up, sir.

So your son's a gardener, eh?

- There you are, Mr. Pew.

- I said a double.

- Did you?

- I know a double when I hears one. When!

Dan's coming.

Reading as usual.

There you are, Dan.

- Got a moment?

- I'm reading something.

Read, read.

Read, read, read.

There's more important things in life

than reading, Son.

Keep an ear on the bar,

would you, Mr. Pew?

Right.

If there's one thing I've learned in life...

it's that learning things

never taught me nothing.

- And books is the worst.

- All right, Mother.

Last time I read a book, I was raped.

- So let that be a lesson to you.

- What do you want?

Well, it's about your father.

What about him?

Well, when I said he was dead...

- I was only trying to cushion the blow.

- What blow?

He's alive.

He's alive and imprisoned as a pirate.

A pirate?

- Like Yellowbeard?

- Very much like Yellowbeard, yes.

In fact, he is Yellowbeard.

No, thank you, sir.

Commander Clement, Royal Navy.

Welcome, Commander Clement.

Her Majesty's temporary throne room...

- is in the huge withdrawing room.

- Thank you, Lady Lambourn.

Lambourn, stop that man

pissing on the hedge.

It's imported!

You, come here! You, stop that at once!

That comes special, all the way from Egypt!

Next...

the head of Her Majesty's Secret Service.

Not to be read out loud.

Excuse me. Joking apart.

Royal Navy Commander Clement.

The fat one on the throne is the Queen.

She's not very well today,

so I should kneel upwind of her.

And the thin one is Lady Churchill.

She's the brains of the outfit.

- State your business.

- Your Majesty, we in the Naval Department...

while being keenly aware of recent spirals

in Defense expenditure...

- humbly submit...

- Are you the Prime Minister?

Secret Service.

Charades!

- You're a beekeeper.

- That'll do for her.

- Will it?

- What do you want?

The pirate Yellowbeard

is due to be released in two days...

and despite years of unpleasantness,

he's still told us nothing...

of the treasure he's hidden.

However, I have a detailed plan here.

I doubt if she could manage

more than the label on a gin bottle.

Just tell us.

Well, milady, we'd like you to increase

his sentence, so he's bound to escape...

and make straight for the treasure.

I shall need a fast ship to follow him.

A sensible request, I think, Your Majesty.

The beekeeper would like this signed.

Certainly.

- Come on, move it, you ratbag!

- Get in there!

- Mr. Yellowbeard.

- Captain to you, you scum.

Quite. Sorry, "Captain" Yellowbeard.

Yes. Twenty years ago today,

you were sentenced to jail.

Yes, and now I'm due to be released.

Yes. Or rather no.

You see, 20 years ago...

no one was expected

to live in jail for 20 years.

Filthy, horrendous conditions

that existed then, and, indeed...

still exist today.

So the judge who sentenced you

had no idea you would survive.

Therefore, Her Majesty

has graciously agreed...

to increase your sentence

a further 140 years. Case dismissed.

I've got him!

Sorry.

- Get off of me!

- What are you doing?

Stop him! Stop him!

Get over there where you belong!

- Went well with the Commander then, did it?

- No.

So I can take it you won't be leaving us

just yet, as it were.

They broke their solemn word.

There's governments for you.

I expect they wanted to know

about the treasure.

Yes, and that's something

they'll never know.

Well, until you tell them about the treasure...

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