“Listen, I realize ya feel the need to fly back to yar friends for support,” said the Captain slurping the head off his fresh mead. “But, we ave to work this out.”

“I know, I know,” said the boy. His baby teeth clicked together a few times and he frowned.

The Captain set down his mug, pulled a folded piece of paper out his waistcoat and slid it across the table. “Are ya getting cold slippers?”

“NO!” The boys hands shot up from under the table, palms out. “It’s just that…” he tugged at the leaves ringing the collar of his green coat, ”...she is one of my best friends. Does if have to be her?”, he asked.

“Come on boy, I don’t ave all day. Yar the one that don’t want to grow up, so deal. I ave a gig back in Neverland to get to.”

“Fine.” the boy whined, snatching the paper off the table. “Tink it is.”

“Aaarg, good deal!” The Captian said, pounding the table and spilling the mead.

The boy flattened the paper. “Now, I can torrent all of the Metallica albums without Lars jumping my ass, right?”

“Aye.”