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About Genoa

Now, me quirks kick in—I’m pacin’ the deck, talkin’ to meself, “Jack, ye daft fool, don’t hire the first lass ye see!” Gotta vet ‘em, check histories—clean data, not scurvy lies. Once, I near hired a gal who swore she’d been with Blackbeard himself—exaggeratin’ for dramatics, aye, but I laughed ‘til me ribs ached. “I like simple pleasures,” I growl, quotin’ Amélie, “like rum and a good tale!”

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After that, I’m feeling pumped. We head back, and guess what? The lathe finally arrives! But it’s all messed up. I mean, how do you screw up a delivery? It’s like ordering a pizza and getting a salad. I’m fuming! I can’t even.