The Cap'n's cappin'.

I dropped in on missus Slock yesterday morning, and over a cup of coffee
asked how Cap was faring.
"Oh, you know the old bear; grumpy as always, but he's on the mend; just
you head on up the stairs and say 'how do.'"
"I b'lieve I will," I replied, and mounted the steps to visit with the old
salt.
"Mornin', Cap!", I greeted him in his bed, "How's the leg doin'?"

"AVAST, YE SCURVY DOG," he bellowed, bringing a convincing-looking saber out
from under the bedsheets and shaking it in my general directon, "SNAP TO
ATTENTION WHEN YE - OH, IT'S YOU," he said, finally realizing it was only me
standing before him.
"BLAST IT, SAILOR, YE NEVER WANT TO STARTLE A MAN WHEN HE'S ON HIS WATCH -
NO TELLIN' WHICH WAY TH' TIDE WILL TURN."

"Yes, sir," I said, respectful both of his demeanor and his sword/words. You
never want to fool around too much with Cap.
"Just popped in for a chat, see if you're going to be up and about soon; you
know, they've been asking about you down at the docks."

"AARRR, he responded, fixing me with a glittering eye, "THOSE LOT OF
RUM-TOSSIN', BARNACLE-BUSTIN', SQUID-SQUIRTIN' LAYABOUTS! WHY, YE TELL 'EM
THEY AIN'T SEEN TH' LAST OF CAPTAIN SLOCK, THEY HASN'T! AYE!"

"Easy there, old pal," I chided, calming him a bit with my raised, upturned
hands and backing slowly out of the room with a smile, "I'll let 'em know,
Cap;
I'll tell 'em all that old Cap Slock is alive and kickin'!"