What could I do with this monument, this orb? This creation? Nay, This magnificently heroic globe. Oh god, I’ve been considering things that start with letter “S”… shipment, slavery, stealing, aaaah, sex!!!
Just kidding. I’m looking for a “P” word now, am I? Ah, you wouldn’t know, don’t you? But what if I take off your head, will you know then, idiot? …P…P… have you ever peed on your pants? Peter Pan! That is just so “P” eh? There you are!
You know what? Peter Pan? He was as lame as a duck. Not the metaphorical lame duck either but a real duck that was actually lame. Don’t you find him ridiculous? And look at him. So green; is he an environmentalist?
Come come Peter Pan . And please leave Tinker Bell behind. I’m allergic to…to…fairy dust. Yes Peter Pan. Yes. Yes. whatever. Yea, of course I balance, I weave, I dodge, I frolic and my bills are all paid. Always! During weekends, I let off for a swim until seeing another island to invade. Years ago, I discovered the meaning of life but I forgot to write it down. I have made extraordinary four course meals using a small oven toaster. I breed snakes, birds, toads and earthworms. I have won bullfights in Madrid, cliff-diving competitions in India and spelling bees in London. Don’t you find me a simple pirate like me be as much more intelligent than you? I have even performed open-heart surgery and I have spoken to Michael Jackson and Elvis. But, with that and all, I have not yet gone to college. I have not yet gone to college. And I’m planning to take up Bachelor of Arts in English actually. I heard their curriculum is freakin’…full-packed. Am I right, Wendy?
Peter Pan, we are our own dragons as well of our own heroes. And we have to rescue ourselves from ourselves. You saved your ass and left Rumplestiltskin for your selfish interest of getting the youth.
I don’t blame God for having created the crocodiles, but I thank him for not having given it wings because if it were so, I can fly next to you, tear you limb from limb and I’ll crush your arms just like what you did to mine.
Everybody is a potential murderer. I’ve never killed anyone…I haven’t killed anyone yet but I frequently get satisfaction in reading names in obituary notices. And the name I want to read next is the “P” word. Peter Pan. Nothing else. Emma Swan is here to kiss me and kiss your tail goodbye.
Yes. Yes. Yes. Uh huh, yes hmmmm. You deliver a very good argument Pan, but speaking personally, I’d rather have an exhibitionist nymphomaniac rather than you being a part of my voyage…being a part of my journey…being a part of my LIFE.
Get out of my boat! Now! Out. Out. OUT!
Calm down, Hook, relax. Relax. You’re the protagonist here. You’re the good person here. You are no evil.
But I don’t like it here. It’s terribly crowded. I’m frightened. Tell me, have I gone mad? Have-I-gone-mad? Everybody hates me. I’m not the villain. I’m not the villain. I’m not the enemy. I’m a good person. Have you ever seen a pirate singing Ave Maria kneeling in front of a Bishop? Why did you all hurt me? Why did you hurt me? Why? Why?
What could I do with this monument, this orb? This creation? Nay, This magnificently heroic globe… Oh god, I’ve been considering things that start with letter “S”… shipment, slavery, stealing, sex!!! As for me, “S” is for SADNESS. Goodbye.