The door swings wide, and in steps a tall sailor, staggering under the weight of a kit bag full of old bad jokes. He reels off to the larboard side of the bar and walks into the wall. He lifts the bejewelled patch from his left eye and peers forward, speaking to nobody im particular. "My old mother always said pirates look fiercer with eyepatches!" He lifts a second patch from over his right eye, "I wonder if I should have stuck with just the One?"
He looks about the Tavern and addresses the gathered throng. "The name's Jim, Jim Ladd!". "Mind if I drop me bag in the corner and unbuckle my Swash? - It's been a long trip, and I could have caught Moby Dick, if I hadn't taken the tablets..."
The kit bag falls to the floor, and as it lands, the neck loosens. Half a dozed small kits crawl out and creep towards the crypt...