Aye, wait, what's this. This chest has no treasure, only scrawney wee bikes
with tiny little tires and thar's no place for my peg t' push on the pedal thin'.
Whar's the real treasure, c'mon lads. Tell old Grey Beard whar it beeeee 'ere we
sink this scow and send all the funny little bikes straight t' Da'ey Jones himself I say.
Ye'll ne'er get me buried booty!