yarrr, me hearties, let me spin ye a tale 'bout a map, marked with secrets of old, where the word 'confidential' be not just a word but a treasure buried deep. 'tis a legend, ye see, of a crew so cunning, they'd evade capture with whispers in the night, their plans wrapped in the enigma of the word 'predisjunctive,' a concept so baffling, it'd start from the top of yer thoughts and leave ye in circles. their mission, shrouded in secrecy, was to report on treasures hidden away, but the truest treasure they sought was freedom, a gem more precious than gold for those ensnared in slavery, a curse on the seas we aim to break. so gather 'round as we chart a course to uncover this mystery, but let the winds carry our words away, for the map we seek should remain in the shadows, as confidential as the silent pact between sea and sky.