'This ship has entirely too little weaponry.' Blitzmann said, shaking his head disapprovingly. 'Not a single harpoon, cannon or firehurler in sight.' He whirled around, pointing an accusing finger at a deckhand swabbing the deck. 'You!' he called.
The man froze like a deer caught in the headlights, eyes wide and panicky.
'What's your excuse for this travesty?'
The deckhand knew better than to question the doctor's mad accusations. Best to just play along.
'I'm a halfway-retarded ogre spawn scarcely worthy of the pathetic brain in my inferior skull?'
Blitzmann blinked, taken slightly aback. 'Correct,' he said. 'Carry on.'