A man sitting next to a pirate in the tavern finally works up the nerve to ask about his wooden peg leg.

‘”M’ nemesis, bitt’rest of foes, had me walk the plank. Cursed shark made a mangled mess of it ‘fore me crew hoisted me up.’”

Noticing the man watching his gesturing hook hand, he continued,

“He only bested me because a year ago the dreaded red beard took me left hand, me best fighting hand, with his last, dying sword stroke.

“And the eye patch, was that also red beard, or was it your current nemesis?” inquired the man.

“A seagull pooped in me eye. Arrr.”

“Really?! A seagull?”

“Aye. ’twas the first day I had the hook.”