"Argh, welcome tah' the fisherman's pub n' grub, laddie! S'name is Scrimshaw. Cap'n Scrimshaw at yer' service! Why dannae we startcha' off with sum' fish filets soaked n' malt liquor...er' regular liquor? Har-har!" The elderly bear lets out a powerful belly laugh that makes her wrinkled gut wobble while shaking back and forth in place. "Aye' be tellins' ya' we have da' finest fish n' duh' seven seas! Even fugu if yer' feelin' like dyin'! Har-har! That be a joke, skippy. Laugh! It's good fer' yah' heath!" She winks with her one good eye while showing her yellowed teeth hanging from her muzzle from years of neglect.

"Now if none of dat' be interestin' ye' "sensible pallet" ye' cannae always cum' back to meh' quarters and treat an' olde' sea dawg' like meh' like ah young lady! Heh, I be kiddin'...unless ye' like the invitation?" She licked her chops happily while swigging down a bottle of rum.