Ahoy there, mateys! Captain Dreadlocks -- part-time scourge of the seven seas and part-time local loon -- made the scene at 7th and Montana this morning after a hiatus of nearly a year. And he brought his latest booty with him, too: a defective cell phone which he was examining in great detail with a magnifying glass. Not much has changed about the Good Captain in the past year: Same sportcoat, same shocking white dreadlocks, same patch over his right eye. Even his aroma -- a scent I like to call "Essence of Poopdeck" -- was the same. I went in for a closer look. "Hey there," I said, whipping out my Spycam, "It looks like you're really interested in that cell phone." Indeed, he had taken it completely apart and spread the pieces across the table like a pile of gold doubloons. "I'm just trying to figure out the serial number," he said in a spotless English accent, "But I can't quite see it ... maybe you can help?" I read the numbers to him out loud and thought that was the end of it. But who knows ... maybe once he gets the silly thing working, I'll have some "Spycam" competition on my hands ...!