“I’m a man of faith, not a man of waterproofing!” he protested, shielding his face.

Rush chuckled, a dry, parrot-like squawk. “Hector always preferred after-lunch betrayals. More digestive biscuits available.”

Jack Sparrow just swayed, perfectly unbalanced, and smiled. “It’s not treason if you don’t get caught. It’s just… creative negotiation.”

Cruz finally produced the lemon from her hair. “See? Real pirates don’t need maps. Just good hiding places.”

Nearby, (Blackbeard himself) sat in a canvas chair, sipping tea from a thermos. His costume, a tangle of smoking fuses and leather, looked less like piracy and more like a rock-and-roll apocalypse. He was knitting a tiny purple scarf for his granddaughter. “The trick,” he rumbled to Geoffrey Rush (the ever-scheming Barbossa), who was sharpening his wooden leg with a file, “is to terrify the crew before lunch. After lunch, they’re too sleepy for a proper mutiny.”

And somewhere in the background, a sound guy dropped a coconut, and the entire cast of Pirates 4 —villains, lovers, and lunatics—burst into genuine, un-piratical laughter.

Depp looked up from his lemon. “Children, children,” he drawled, “the real treasure isn’t the Fountain of Youth. It’s finding a wig that doesn’t itch.” He tugged at his dreadlocks. “This one has developed its own ecosystem. I’ve named the ecosystem ‘Kevin’.”

The humid air of the soundstage smelled of salt spray and yesterday’s rum. The director yelled “Cut!” and the clatter of swords faded into laughter.