"How we feeling, Captain?"

"Not too good. I...I feel so weak."

"We can't hold out much longer."

"Listen...chaps...there's still a chance. I'm...done for, I've...got a gammy leg and I'm going fast; I'll never get through. But...some of you might. So...you'd better eat me."

"Eat you, sir?"

"Yes. Eat me."

"Iiuuhh! With a gammy leg?"

"You needn't eat the leg, Thompson -- there's still plenty of good meat. Look at that arm!"

"It's not just the leg, sir..."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, sir...it's just that -- "

"Why don't you want to eat me?"

"...I'd rather eat Johnson, sir!"

"So would I, sir."

"I see."

"Then that's decided...everyone's gonna eat me!"

"Uh, well..."

"What, sir?"

"Go ahead, please, but I won't -- "

"Oh nonsense, sir -- you're starving! Tuck in!"

"No, no, it's not that."

"What's the matter with Johnson, sir?"

"Well, he's not kosher."

"That depends how we kill him, sir."

"Yes, that's true. But to be perfectly frank I...I like my meat a little more lean. I'd rather eat Hodges."

"Oh well, all right."

"I still prefer Johnson."

"I wish you'd all stop bickering and eat me."

"Look, I tell you what...those who want to can eat Johnson. And you, sir, can have my leg. And we make some stock from the Captain, and then we'll have Johnson cold for supper."