I wanna tell you a stoooory...

"Never mind," said the radish. "Now that I'm in your head, I understand perfectly. You are the notorious pirate, Capt'n Kit! If you think an admiral is going to co-operate with YOU, you are quite wrong!"

"Well," said Kit, "It seems to me you don't have much choice in the matter. I can have you in my salad tonight or you can tell me where the sunken treasure is."

Inspiration struck Kit. "In fact, if you lead us to the treasure, I and my crew will retire from pirating and you will be handed back over to the British navy with valuable insights into how a pirate's mind works. Something for everyone!"

The radish thought it over. Under the circumstances, it seemed reasonable enough. "Oh, very well, then," it said grumpily. "You're on."

Kit and the radish emerged into the sunlight again from out of the ship's hold. The crew of the Flossie Jetsam were still slumbering peacefully.

Kit called out to the pirates, "Right then , lads! I have found a map to a sunken treasure - a ship that was carrying gold bars from Spain and sunk in shallow waters off the coastline of California. We will all be rich, matey's! Back to the Bacardi and set sail!"

"Arrrrrggghhh!" roared the pirates.

"What about Brianna?" asked the pirate Ducksnuts.

Kit considered. Brianna seemed rather fond of old UT. Besides chasing the pirates for the sake of a radish was one thing, but chasing them to get the return of the lovely Brianna was quite another.

"Leave her with the rest," ordered Kit. "We have a treasure to find! Strip the Flossie Jetsam of her sails and put them in her hold. They'll think we threw them overboard, and by time they find out different, we'll be long gone!"

The pirates quickly scrambled up the masts of the Flossie Jetsam to do Kit's bidding. The sails were then neatly folded and placed in the hold where the radish had been.

The pirates then rushed over to the Bacardi, threw off the grappling hooks, and were soon under way with a fine following wind.

Down in the Bacardi's hold, the radish said to Flint, "And what might YOUR name be?"

The gramophone back on the Flossie Jetsam played Brahm's lullaby as its crew snored on undisturbed and the Bacardi vanished over the horizon...