"OH! OH! NOW THEY LACK DELICACY, SAYS THE GIRL TOSSIN' EM THROUGH WALLS!"

He went to take another swig of grog, before spewing it out at the mention of the phrase "queen of the pirates" and continuing to laugh his ass off.

"GWAAAAAHAHAHA! LASSIE, PIRATES DON'T BOW TO NO KING OR QUEEN IN THIS AGE! AND CERTAINLY NOT ONE THAT'S SO COWARDLY THEY NEED A DEVIL FRUIT TO SURVIVE IN THE DRUNKEN DEMON!"

The man stood up, shaking his head. His laughter died down as he grabbed the full bottle of alcohol in one hand, and a baseball bat in the other. He slung the bat over his shoulder before turning a hateful glare, full of the disappointment of a man seeing everything wrong with the new generation infesting the livelihood he held so dear, to the self-proclaimed pirate queen.

"Aaaaah, piracy's gone downhill since my day it seems. All you brats runnin' about, talkin' about KING OF THE PIRATES this and I'M SO COOL I HAVE A MAGIC BANANA that. In my day, ye got by on yer wits, yer muscle, and yer reputation. But it looks like sellin' yer pirate's soul to the devil and forsakin' the sea's embrace fer power is enough to make some brats these days think they're hot shit. Thinks that lets them call themselves a pirate. In my day?"

In the blink of an eye, a fork flew over to the wall, quivering over an old wanted poster. Strikeout Worches, a bounty of 54,000,000- For piracy, sinking a marine vessel, burglarizing a Marine Captain's house, the theft of cargo totaling 30,000 tons, and shaving a Marine Captain's prize showdog. The pirate adjusted his hat and headed for the door.

"In my day ye had to WORK to be worthy of sayin' that."