We're at sea, looking at a lonely rowboat emerging from a storm cloud. A one-armed skeleton with a red rag covering his eye is draped over the gunwale of the boat: Bob. He is slightly charred, as is the broken oar that rests against the side of the boat behind him.
Bob: Out of the storm at last!
Bob: A little singed, but mostly OK.
The boat continues to drift aimlessly. Bob lifts himself up, but looks alarmed.
Bob: I should still be able to hand in these supplies on time...
Bob: That music...
Large panel. A huge shark - a Megalodon - breaches the surface directly beneath the rowboat, catapulting it into the air. Unsurprisingly, Bob is not pleased.
Megalodon: WAAARGHLE GLARRRBLE