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I had thought myself alone in a small boat upon the broad Atlantic<\/em> when I first heard the voice coming from belowdecks. Now I huddled in the stern, crouching in frozen fear<\/em> as an apparition rose through the gangway, my numb fingers\u00a0unfolding the flag of the United Kingdom<\/em>\u00a0in a vain attempt to hide myself.<\/p>\n “You don’t have to eat it.”<\/em><\/p>\n That was all it said, over and over, in its waterlogged whisper, the terrible sound burrowing into my brain.<\/p>\n “You don’t have<\/em> to eat it,” it said again, waving a rotten lime\u00a0in my terrified face. “But if you don’t, you’ll get scurvy!”<\/p>\n I screamed at this sudden new vocalization for that was the moment I knew I was being haunted by Captain Archibald Bloodygums, the ghastliest sea ghost ever to emerge from the Caribbean<\/em>.<\/p>\n If I didn’t eat the wretched lime I would incur his wrath and my little yacht would surely sink, and me with it. If I did eat it, I would join his ghastly crew for all eternity.<\/p>\n bonus points for using them in order<\/p>\n