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A monologue from the screenplay written primarily by Ted Elliott and Terry Rossio
Whose boons? Your boons? Utterly deceptive twaddle-speak, says I. (Pause) Cuttlefish. Aye. Let us not, dear friends, forget our dear friends, the cuttlefish.
Flipping glorious little sausages. Pen them up together, they’ll devour each other without a second thought. Human nature, isn’t it? Or…. fish nature.
So, yes, we could hole up here well-provisioned and well-armed. Half of us would be dead within the month. Which seems quite grim to me, any way you slice it…
Or… uh…. as my learned colleague so naively suggests, we can release Calypso, and we can pray that she will be merciful… I rather doubt it.
Can we pretend she’s anything other than a woman scorned like which fury hell hath no? We cannot. Res ipsa loquitur, tabula in naufragio. We are left with but one option.
I agree with, and I cannot believe the words are coming out of me mouth… Captain Swann. We must fight.