gibsonsg91921 was sitting above deck, drinking some rum quietly. He couldn't sleep, so he figured that a healthy dose of alcohol would do the trick. Of course, it was getting harder and harder to do so. Being a pirate, gibson had achieved a very high tolerance for the substance over the years, so as a result he was rather drunk, but not completely gone to the point where he was about to pass out.
Four men approached him, cutlasses drawn. They did not mince words. Checking to see that his vision was not starting to blur and there were, in fact, four men approaching him, gibson took another swig of his bottle. "What's this all about, eh?" he slurred, with the men only drawing closer to him in response.
Taking one final swig of his rum, gibson finally drew his own cutlass in response and lunged at his attackers. He fought with fantastic bravery, although not particularly much skill, frequently swinging wildly at the air. Eventually, numbers and sobriety took their toll and gibson passed on. He didn't feel a thing.
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