So ye be wantin’ to read about the biggest movie of all time to feature a buccaneer in mascara. Then ye be talking about Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man’s Chest.
“Arrr,” Davy added, “Why would ye want to be searchin’ fer a dead man’s chest when Keira Knightly’s be close at hand?”
What would you expect from a swab with a lobster claw for a hand. “When I run ye through, yer last thought be o’ vat o’ melted butter.”
“Avast, matey, where’s the scurvy eye shadow at?” said Johnny Depp. “‘Tis a wee known fact that Pirates on th’ high seas generally resembled a high Jerry Hall at Studio 54 in 1978.”
“Help!” yelled Keira Knightly, “I’m in terrible danger, I’m terminally pouty, and worst of all, I’m getting more tan as the movie goes on.”
“A bonny lass,” said Depp.
“Did you say she has a bony ass?” asked Orlando Bloom.
“No, but if ye doubloon fits.”
Captain Depp rules his crew with an iron fist. “Swab yer teeth, ye…swabs! I haven’t seen ye dental hygiene so deplorable since Ye Bridget Jones’s Diary.”
As our adventure begins, Orlando Bloom is in shackles and condemned to death. But unlike the dream I have every night, it’s only a temporary scrape.
Said Johnny, “Woe unto ye scurvy heartys who questions which damsel be prettier, th’ Knightly one or th’ one whose first name be th’ homeport o’ Disney World, savvy?”
“Who are you referring to?” asked Orlando, whose stockings were bunching around his dainty heels and big buckle shoes.
“If my puffy sleeves and dandyish physique fail to intimidate you, then – like many men before you – you will meet my sword!” Orlando warned.
“I know men who’ve met your sword and they’re unimpressed by its girth and foppish swagger,” said Captain Depp.
“Kneel before my girlish gams, dog!” replied Orlando in a hissy-fit.
“Not until you hoist them breeches up past yer wee buccaneer to yer treasure trail, wench!” spat Depp.
Stellan Skarsgård has a starfish embedded in his head. Has this always been there, because it’s the first time I’ve noticed it?
Amongst the surly natives Johnny Depp is worshipped like a God – “Ooga ooga ooga ooga” – which translates roughly to: “On the red carpet with Johnny Depp, I’m Joan and Melissa Rivers. Who are you wearing? And who are you eating?”
“Is it true we’re seeking a man’s chest?” asked Orlando.
“A dead man’s chest,” said Depp.
“Any port in a storm,” replied Orlando.
Beware the mysterious Haitian fortune-teller with her mystifying speech impediment: “I know you’re ‘tinking t’at I cannot pronounce t’e letters ‘T’ and ‘H’ toget’er in one word….and about t’at you’d be right!”
“You will set sail to ‘de ends of t’e Eart’ and beyond!” she warned.
“But how do you go beyond the ends of the Earth – isn’t that why they call it the ends?” asked Orlando.
“I’m speakin’ metaphorically ye literal-minded twit,” she said. “Come kiss me on the lips, blackened wit’ t’e dark souls of a ‘tousand shooting days wit’ Colin Farrell on Miami Vice.”
Arrr, yo-ho-ho and a bottle of rum, a pirate’s life for me. ‘Tis a rollickin’ good time at the cinema for parrots and peg-leg brutes, all.
Photos Copyright ©2006 Walt Disney Pictures
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