"Now you listen here, bub," Klank demanded. He didn't like the idea of a man he barely knew claiming the ship as his own. "You wanna be Captain of this crew? Good, cause we need one. You wanna be the one to choose this ships path? Fine! you won't get arguments from us." Klank produced a cigarette out of thin air and lit it before it hit his lip. A long drag ensued. He walked up to Bighead, hands on his hips, and said, "You wanna call this ship yours? Fuck that. I designed this beauty. I built it, and I alone am the one who steers it." It was then that he shot a piercing look at Isaac. "That goes for you as well. Don't think for a second," He finished the smoke and lit another, pausing mid sentence. "That I believe your weak excuse. Are you even trying to hide it?" He put it aside to readdress the newcomer.

	The man stood there in his pose, just smiling. "I'll even hand carve you a masterpiece of a figure head, design you a symbol for MY Flag and MY sails. But this area right here," he pointed to the helm. "And everything it controls... is mine." Klank took a long breath after a violent puff, and exhaled. "Can you deal with that?"

	"Sure, Little Guy," Bighead said while patting him on the back. "I recognize a dream when I see one. Like I said, a ninth sense about these things." He immediately walked over to the helm and rested his hulking hand on the large wooden wheel. He dwarfed it. "Now," He said looking to each of the crew once again. "What are the rest of your dreams?"

	Klank couldn't believe the audacity. "That's my line," he thought to himself.