Bored on Fathers Day

With his comrades dead or dying and evil Dr Fishycrotch hot on his heels, Quint knew he had nowhere left to go. Miles out at sea, the radio transponder broken, he knew it would be days before his rotten bloated carcass would be fished out of the water. And he'd run out of hair gel.

Quint sings a song and faces his fate.

Farewell and adieu to you fair Spanish ladies / Farewell and adieu fair ladies of Spain / For we've received order to sail back for Boston / and so nevermore will we see you again..

Ahem. Hope your Fathers Day is going better than mine...