"And that is why you and your friend need to take Jesus into your hearts. Jesus is the path to salvation; even for pirates like you."

Ragetti looked at the old priest in wonder, idly rubbing his false eye.

"An' 'e's willin' ta show mercy ta any person wot asks fer et? No matta wot they done?" he asked.

"Of course." The priest nodded.

"Well…"

"Ar' ye still talkin' abou' this shite?!" Pintel suddenly demanded, lounging on the bench that made up their bed in the prison cell.

Every Sunday, missionaries came to the jail to try and convert the prisoners. They were usually driven out with threats of bodily injury and death by the prisoners themselves; but for some reason that Pintel just couldn't understand, Ragetti had actually sat down with the priest and listened to him.

It was starting to give him a headache.

"Would ye jus' stow et!? I'm tryin' ta bloody sleep!"

"I jus' wan' ta ask a few more questions, Pint!" Ragetti pointed out.

"Make et quick!"

"Sorry, fatha." Ragetti apologized, turning back to the priest with reddened cheeks. "Pint don' 'old wi' religion o' any sor' afta we was cursed by some Gods."

"That's all right." The priest assured him. He was used to dealing with stubborn heretics like Pintel but open hearts like Ragetti's were truly a breath of fresh air for him.

"What did you want to ask, my son?"

"Well ye know 'ow durin' the Sacramen' ye drin' wine an' call et the blood o' Jesus?"

"Yes?"

"Is et really 'is Blood?"

"Once it touches your lips it changes from wine to His Blood, yes."

Ragetti paused for a moment, looking down at the ground.

"Does tha' mean tha' Jesus was drunk all the toime, fatha?" he asked suddenly.

Pintel started to laugh as the priest blinked in surprise and could only stare at Ragetti.

"Does et?" he asked innocently.

"No, no it doesn't." the priest stammered.

"Kin I ask yer somefing else?"

"I suppose…"

"The saints aint neva been wi' a woman righ'?"

"Yes, they have never had…"

"Oy Pinters! We is saints! We aint neva been wi' a woman either!"

Pintel howled with laughter as the priest's face turned red.

"What did you say?"

"Me an' Pinters aint neva been wi' a woman either!" Ragetti said cheerily. "We only been wi' each other! We is married ye see! Matelots fer loife!"

"I'm done." The priest said suddenly getting up and calling for the guard to open the cell door.

"Fatha? Wot's wrong?" Ragetti asked in confusion, standing up.

"I don't deal with sodomites." The priest snapped as the door was opened.

"I aint a sodomite!" Ragetti corrected. "I'm 'alf Italian!"

"Le' et go, Rags." Pintel sighed as the priest stormed out. "Et aint worth et."

Sighing sadly, Ragetti's shoulders slumped and he looked down at the ground. Blinking, he reached down and picked up the Bible that the priest had left behind and with a shrug; he sat down beside Pintel on their bench.

"I don' know." He said, thumbing through the upside down Bible. "Et seemed noice ta 'ave a person love yer no matta wot, aye?"

"Ye always 'ad tha' anyway." Pintel said with rolled eyes.

"Aye? Who?" Ragetti asked.

Kissing his lips, Pintel smiled and winked.

"Me."