I froze, partly from fear, and partly because his breath smelled like he'd recently eaten a skunk sandwich. I expected him to bite my head off. Instead, he remained still, his eyes glazed over.

Fred and Sam pulled me away, and we all stared. Why wasn't he moving?

Then he spoke again, this time more loudly. "I said, I needs me a chantey, boy!" he yelled. Then he fell silent.

Sam took a closer look, then turned to us. "Believe it or not, I think our hairy friend here is talking in his sleep."