Aye, an' a right good boss she be, ar'. (Is this National Talk Like A Pirate day, by any chance?) I'll be duelin' wi' ye fer 'er liver on the morn, eh? A liver like that un be worth its weight in gold doubloons, Ah reckon. Ah've a better idea, mate; yer veins 'ave taken my fancy, they have. 'Ave a nice slug o' rum, on the house, like; there ye go, mate, take another...now, this here bobbin won't even be worth yer notice. Jes' ye roll back yer sleeve, me 'earty; now ye be garglin' wi' the rum. By the Heathen Ship! Lookit *yer* liver...that's it, mate; jes ye lay yer 'ead down and Bob's yer uncle, Ah'll 'ave that poppet out 'afore ye even miss 'er. ARR, now that's a good lad...

Do I make a great EVIL, organ-harvesting pirate, or what?