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"Awright then, let's get down ta bus'ness, shall we? Here's whatcha gotta do." I mapped out a complicated plan that probably wouldn't work in the long run. Bluebeard would have to abandon the Apocalypse and strike out on foot to China, Lebanon, Peru, Persia. Any time he came across a route where he needed to go overseas, he'd have to buy or build a new ship, hire new crew, and last of all..."Get a shave."
"What?"
"Ya need a shave, Artie."
"What do you mean, a shave, Sparrow? What does that have to do with anything?"
"Aw, c'mon, Arthur. Ya can't honestly be that much of a dyin' candle. That scruffy beard'a yers is yer definin' feature. I mean, it's where ya gotcher name, ain't it? The thing's gotta go."
"I haven't shaved in fifteen years, Sparrow. What makes you think I'm going to start now?"
I crossed my arms and leaned back in my chair so it teetered on two legs and rested my own legs on the table's edge, knowing my balance was good enough to keep myself from falling. "If'n ya don't, Ol' Davy Jones'll catch ya soon 's ya step so much as a foot offshore. No one'll know it's you wivout that beard. 'Tis a disguise, ya numbskull."
Bluebeard leaned back in his own chair, obviously without the balancing act I was doing, and ran a hand through his beard. I took a meat pie from the plate between us and took a bite.
"I'll give ya some time ta think on it, Artie," I said through the mouthful. Then I took another bite and gave an exaggerated moan of delight. "Mm. Ya oughta try these, Artie. They're dee-lish. Best pies in London, I'd say."
He picked one up and took a bite, then he wolfed the pie down and started shoveling the rest from the plate to his mouth like a wolf digging into a deer. The plate was soon emptied of its contents.
"Whoo," I whistled. "Geez, Artie, ya sure put those away. What, didja run out'a food on yer ship?"
"Rotted," he grunted.
I grimaced. "Ugh. 'Ere, how 'bout this: I'll go with Mrs. Lovett ta get some more'a those meat pies fer ya while ya think 'bout what I toldja, eh?"

---------------
Jaqueline and Mrs. Lovett headed down to the bakehouse, leaving Arthur Bluebeard with the three other pirates staring at him. The merchant captain shifted his weight on his chair, which creaked beneath him.
"Damn. Where's that firstmate of mine when I need him?" he muttered to himself, earning a fleeting smirk from Scarlette. "Oh yeah, left him in charge of my crew when I left."
Vasharl, Scarlette, and Sakura turned to each other and started chatting away amicably, shutting Bluebeard even more out of their circle, which only served to make him more nervous.
"Where's that wench Sparrow gone to? It can't possibly take that long to--"
All sound was abruptly cut off by the sound of shattering pottery and a piercing, bloodcurdling scream from the bakehouse.

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All right, folks! There's the latest chapter! Dontcha love it when I give you cliffhangers? I sure do! 'Cause it keeps my readers coming back for more! Comment people, or I won't put up the next one.