“It gets into eyes and nose, with various outcomes.”

“Why are you here, parrot?  Do you have a name?”

“I’m Paul-Henri Labaguette, Your Majesté, to better serve you.  We… I need some help, would you know where we are?”


“You and I, Majesté.”

“Welcome to my world.  You’re on my planet.  You’re my first servant.  You’re to obey me and pledge allegiance to me.  You may be knight or fool.  You must choose.  What will it be?”

“I’m a bird, Your Majesté, I—“

“—You’re a fool.  Now, entertain me, Labaguette.”

“I will do so, your Majesty, with my partner.  We’re a team.”

“I was right.  You’re a ‘we’.  You lied to me.  Why lie to a King?  Why did you lie to the King and me, bird?”

“I…  I…  The King and You are two different persons?”

“It depends.  Why did you lie to us?”

“Your Majesté, if I get caught by your army, then I beg you to let my partner free and let him escape.”

“My army, huh?  You saw our army when you landed here?”


“Would you fear us more if I had an army?”

“So, you don’t have…?”

“I didn’t say that.  Answer me.”

“Of course I would.”

“And if we didn’t have one at our command?”

“It depends, Your Majesté.”

“See now, parrot, it’s all relative, isn’t it?  I have an army that is just as real as the King and I are talking to you with one voice.”

“I see, your Majesté.”

“What do you see?”

“I know not, it’s just a way of speech,” Labaguette answers, lost in the meanders of the King’s ways.

To be continued…



“Capitaine,” Labaguette says at last, “there’s a king sitting on a chair.”

“We’d better get back; any king would send me to the gallows.”

“Fuck, Capitaine, are you man or wimp?”

“He might have an army.”

“He’s alone.  There’s only his coat covering the ground as far as I can see.”

“Kings are never alone.  I’ll stay here and wait while you go and see what’s up with this king and his furry kingdom.”

“Ai, ai, Capitaine,” Labaguette answers as he flies off towards the King.

This King is as large as a castle and as high as a hill.  Labaguette flies past the King’s nose.  This tickles the King who wipes his hand to catch Labaguette but the parrot is shrewd and avoids being caught.  Then, the King sneezes.

“Bless you, Sir,” Labaguette attempts.

“Haven’t you heard of protocol?” the King thunders.

“Bless you, your Majesté.”

“You come from a French Court?” the King asks.

“Where is your Court, your Majesté?” Labaguette replies.

“I’ve none,” the king answers, his eyes twinkling at the mere mention of the word ‘Majesty’, “I’m King of this planet.”

“You reckon this is a planet?”

But the King remains silent.

“Your Majesté?”

“What else do you make it to be?”

This time, Labaguette doesn’t answer in case this is a trick to throw him and the Captain in some dark dungeon far away from Earth.

“Your Majesté,” Labaguette continues, “you got a cold?”

“You, flying by me… it sends universal dust flying around.  I can’t handle it.”

“Ai, Ai, your Majesté, I know about universal dust.

“What do you know about it?”

“It makes one blind, your Majesty.”

“You don’t seem blind, fool.”

To be continued…


“No, I can see.  Really, I can see.”

“Zat’s impozible, Capitaine, I take over the ship, I am Capitaine now.”

“Don’t you dare touch the ‘Insatiable Mermaid’.  This is mutiny.  You have no right, Labaguette.  I warn you, if you—“

But his words are lost in the emptiness of space because just then the ship hits a large rock.  Captain Traumatic rolls off his bed and Labaguette loses his sense of orientation as the walls and roof of the room are now seemingly slanted, the entire ship resting sideways against the giant rock.  Both scramble out.

“Bloody Hell!” Labaguette exclaims.

“What happened?”

“We’ve hit some very large rock.  I think it’s a planet.”

“A planet?”

“Astronomers mentioned them sometimes back home.”

“Astronomers?  You know any?”

“Well, they got burnt at the stake for heresy.”

“You’re a heretic?”

“You’re blind.  I’m telling you this is a planet.”

“Show me the way onto it.”

A light string is attached to one of the Labaguette’s claw for the Captain to follow.  As they set foot on the planet, the captain crouches and feels the ground.  It is soft, velvety.  This isn’t grass or cobble.

“This is fur.  Are we on the back of some beast?”

“White fur, Capitaine, white with little black zymbols in it.  The fur is covered with it.”

They walk for hours on end.  The Insatiable Princess has faded into the background.

To be continued…


This is where the Captain feels he has no other choice but to gulp a little rum, retire to his cabin and cover his sore eye with a spare patch hoping the pain will go away.  But this isn’t the right time to fall asleep.  The ship is adrift and they might crash into some solid space matter at any time; the Captain is only too aware of it despite his gulping more of his preferred beverage.  Labaguette is furious and does what must be done: grabs a bucket of freezing water and pours it over the Captain’s face (in the Universe, things such as full buckets of water are light to carry, even for parrots).

“Capitaine Traumatic, we’re going to crash,” he says.  “Wake up!”

The mere mention of the word “crash” sends the Captain in a panic.

“Crash?  You’re having me on again?”

The Captain turns in his bed with his back to Labaguette and removes his patch from his glass eye for a better sleep.  He is used to the patch and has worn it because his glass eye fascinates everyone who stares at it, as if it has some hypnotic effect.   It is only and mostly kept unprotected for business or to attract the ladies.  It is a good looking glass eye, shiny and which, unexplainably can turn to grey, green, blue or black depending on the Captain’s mood.  As soon as he’s removed the patch, the pain in his other eye abandons him and he finds he can see with his glass eye.

“I can see!” he exclaims, “Labaguette, I can see!”

“Zat’s the wrong eye, Capitaine.  You should give up the booze.  You’re useless, get back to bed!” Labaguette replies.

To be continued…


The speck of dust in the Captain’s eye might have been like any other speck, annoying, generating tears and easily removed, except that this particular speck was huge, blinding and made of universal dust.

Had the Captain been anywhere on planet earth where he was born, he would easily have overcome this tricky situation.  But he wasn’t on Earth.  He was somewhere in the middle, or was it the edge, of the universe – who knows – and planet Earth was nowhere in sight, its exact position unknown to the Captain.  He was lost and in tremendous pain.  Not only this, but his God damned parrot kept repeating:

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” just like he had often heard his master say.  And again: “fuck, fuck, fuck,” as if these words provided some solution to their predicament.  He repeated them not only because he was a parrot and that this was his job, but because he was rude, mean and conceited.  He hadn’t always been like that.

The trouble was that now, the Captain was entirely blind, his remaining good eye being overcome by some intrusive speck of dust, his other eye having been lost back when he was embattled with his worst enemy, Captain Booztrap, a first cousin who’d been trying to get his hands over their common inheritance, a shipload of rum, from their deceased Uncle Scot Blimey.

“Do something instead of flapping about talking nonsense!” he orders Paul-Henri Labaguette, his French born parrot.

“Zere iz noting I can do Capitaine, noting,” Labaguette answers while smoothing one of his magnificent orange feathers.

To be continued…

THE BEETLES’ STORY (…continued – Part 49)

In the corner of the cage, Shineybeet says to Redbeet:

“You and I, we could have a good time.”

“I’ve only got two legs,” Redbeet answers demurely.

“Me too,” Shinybeet answers, “you said you loved me.”

“Do you?” she asks back, her eyes shining with delight.

“Listen, we could go someplace you and I; we could have a good time,” Shinybeet suggests, now on top of the world; “look, they’re all busy, they don’t need us and there’s no sticky mud in this cage.”

“There!  The back of this stone looks nice and comfortable,” she says.

This is where they stay for some time.  There’s no telling how long.  As most of the bugs in the cage unite in their new found understanding and freedom, others, like the General and Spidey, carry on with their endless battles.  There are young mutants who keep busy, being creative: playing music like no other beetles do and giving birth to more of their own kind and to new species.  And behind the scenes, at the back of a stone, the daily activities of a couple of two legged beetles pursue their most important functions and activities: maintaining beetles as the dominant species of the entire planet.  They are unstoppable and insatiable. Once again on the planet, love conquers all, for a while.

This is where the Beetles’ story end.

Please don’t go away, soon, the adventures of Captain Traumatic (not for children) are coming to this blog.

THE BEETLES’ STORY (…continued – Part 48)

“Right, that’s enough of it.  ‘The Beatles’ will do,” George says, “that will differentiate us from being bugs but still refers to where our inspiration come from.  Besides, ‘a’ stands for the best, the beginning of the alphabet, the beginning of all things, for no. 1, and these mutant bugs are the best breed of beetles I’ve seen.”

“Why should you be the one to decide?  You weren’t even interested,” Ringo says.

“The Beatles.  Fine.  Sounds good.  I’d settle for it,” Paul agrees.

“C’mon John,” Paul continues, “just imagine.”

“Yeah, possibly,” John musters, “they are definitely an unusual breed.”

Inside the cage, a quiet revolution is taking place.

“Did you hear that?” Spidey asks.

“These bipedal fuck wits with long hair are discriminating against our children and against us,” the General answers.

“We must rebel” Spidey says.

“How?” the General asks, “It’s worth many deadly wars.”

“The thing is, I’ve had enough fighting; I’d like to spend some quality time with my children for my retirement…” Spidey answers.

“The time hasn’t yet come for you to retire,” the General comments, “Your children and mine have disobeyed and escaped.  It’s disorderly conduct,” the General carries on, “they should be taught to behave as proper insects.  Then only we will be able to teach them to fight back those damned insults.”

“Do you really believe that?” Spidey asks.  So it goes that the General punches Spidey to the ground.  There are battles that are not worth monitoring.  Besides, it’s between the two of them only and it will go on forever. Their never-ending arguments will go down in history as unfinished business.

To be continued…