Geordie Bottomley
Damn ye! Let Neptune strike ye dead, Ethan! Hark! Hark, Triton. Hark! Bellow, bid our father, the sea king, rise from the depths, full foul in his fury, black waves teeming with salt-foam, to smother this young mouth with pungent slime, to choke ye, engorging your organs till ye turn blue and bloated with bilge, and brine, and can scream no more.