"Excuse me, good sir," you say, trying to sound as polite as possible while still conveying your curiosity. "I couldn't help but notice that you seem to be one of the crew members on board. I was wondering if I might be able to ask you a few questions about the working conditions here on the Titanic?"

The steward looks up at you with a hint of surprise in his eyes, before nodding gruffly and leaning in close. "Well, now, let me tell yeh," he says in a low voice, glancing around to make sure no one is listening in. "Things ain't as grand as they look up here on the surface, if yeh know what I mean. There's a lot of organized crime rats and ghosts that roam these halls at night, causing all sorts of trouble."

He leans in even closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I ain't supposed to say nothing about it, but there's been sightings of the spirit of old Captain Smith himself, still wandering these decks after all these years. Some folks say he's cursed, others say he's just looking for his lost love. Either way, it's a mighty strange thing to see."

He straightens up and looks around again, making sure no one is listening in before continuing. "But that ain't the worst of it. There's been rumors of a rat problem on this ship, big time. Some say they're infested with 'em, and I believe it too. I've seen 'em scurryin' around the galley myself, and let me tell yeh, it ain't no pretty sight."

He leans in one last time, his voice barely above a whisper. "And then there's the ghosts of the crew members who died in the ice fields. They say their spirits still haunt these halls, searching for justice and revenge. It's a mighty spooky place, this ship."

He straightens up again, looking you dead in the eye. "But don't yeh go tellin' anyone about all this, or I'll have to make sure yeh never set foot on another ship again. Capisce?"