“I’ve got a way with words.”

“Too many of them coming out of your ugly head!”

“I’ll save you some time.”

“Speak if you must!”

“Well, although I’m not as smart as you are,” Labaguette begins, “I—“.

“—Speak I said!”

“Well,” Labaguette begins,”considering that the third moon rises alongside the fourth moon at the same time as the fifth one begins its descent whilst the first shines and the second follows on a par, it might be worth calculating how long it takes for—“

“—Enough!  You don’t fool me; I can work it out myself.  I’ll ask for your help as a last resort.  In the meantime, let us have some fun: spinners: if you find what is my real name, you’ll win the right to accompany the King, the Captain and that damned scum bag of a parrot back to their ship and see them off.  But first, let us have the recipe to the Syck Monkey’ rope, shall we or did you think I’d forget about it?”

Now the Captain racks his brains again.  Now Labaguette whispers another few words in his ear:

“The book of endless nourishment,” he says as a glimmer of hope shines in the Captain’s eyes.  But as he scans the book and others, he cannot find anything on the Syck Monkey’s rope except for a short footnote, a reference to a book on life giving properties which in turns refers to the bottom of page 573 of a law book where another footnote reads:

To be continued…©



She remembers that her planet was created out of a legend and that in order to get back to normality, she must find the source of her troubles.  This begins with finding out what is her real name, finding herself, finding who she was long, long ago so that she may fit the pieces back together again.  Why is it that her head feels so heavy all the time?  Why is her hair impossible to manage when it used to be flowing in the wind, free, light and shining under the five moons’ rays?  Normality must be restored she swears… whatever normality entails, whatever normality might be.

One spinner removes the gag from the Captain’s mouth.

My name is like the first moon, strong and brave,” the Captain attempts as silence falls upon all of them.

“Hmm,” Spinostress continues wondering how the Captain could possibly know about the five moons as he’s never seen them rise yet, “Interesting, I don’t have much time, I—“

My name is like the second moon, bright but timid,” the Captain continues,

“My name is like the third moon, slow and seething,

My name is like the fourth moon, shadowy but impressive,

My name is like the fifth moon, colossal and final.

What is my name?”

The shadow of a frown lands onto Spinostress’ face.

“You know too much,” she says, puzzled and at a loss to explain this dumb looking pirate’s sudden display of knowledge.

“The night will never end until you know your name,” he adds.

“—I might know the answer!” Labaguette announces.

“You might, huh?”

To be continued…©


“—ON YOUR KNEES YOU SCUM!” she thunders, “I believe in equality.  I shall speak to those of equal birth to mine.  This King standing before me shall address me in the manner that I deserve, I, Queen of the spinners.  Now, give me my name!”

The King looks at the Captain, lost.  Labaguette perches onto the King’s shoulder and starts nibbling his ear.  King Krackskull passes out.

“Not fit to be King, I’ll be damned,” Spinostress snarls, looking at the Captain once more.

Captain Traumatic looks at Labaguette and understands the cue.

“It’s a riddle,” the Captain musters, as he remembers the scanned book of never ending riddles: riddles with no real answers which, once read out loud to a querent, gives rise to an insatiable thirst and search for the need to find the riddle’s answer.

“I asked for my name.”

“You’re name’s a riddle,” the Captain insists.

“You’re a trickster, a fool, a devil.  Spinners!  Do what you will and get rid of him in any way you like!”

“Very well then, you’ll never know who you really are and where you come from,” the Captain says, as a mass of threads begin to tie him up fast and imprison him into a cocoon.

Spinostress hesitates.

“Stop!” she orders.

To be continued…©


“Words, just words” she snarls, “you, idiot.”

“Why?” Love asks Hate.

“Her hair,” Hate replies, “her scent, her behaviour…”  But he can’t finish his sentence.  Love extracts itself from Labaguette’s wing, removes the ties from around his beak and flies off to Spinostress’ matted, wired hair.

“I won’t leave you,” Love says to Hate, “we’re in this together.  Labaguette, I’ll find a way to bring Hate back; right now, he’s drawn to Spinostress like a magnet, she’s full of—

“—of it, just full of it!” Labaguette retorts as he shakes his now weightless wings and takes flight.  He is faster than the spinners and avoids the gluey, greasy threads that are thrown at him.

“Hate reinforces hate, that’s what it is” Love adds, unable to dig itself any room into the thick tangle of hair where Hate has disappeared, unable to even scratch through its surface.

“Ha! Ha! Ha!  Can’t quite see through me, huh?  Barely scratching the surface, huh?”  Spinostress snarls.  “And who would have thought that one day, Love would be drawn to me.”

Love continues: “Hate and I shall begin Spinostress’ conversion.  She will change.  She will see through her ways.  She will gain in self-awareness.  She will shed her past.  She will free and become free.  You shall see.”

“Catch the damned bird!” Spinostress orders.

“Your Majesty,” the Captain says, “we have with us the recipe you requested and your real name is available if you’d care to —.”

To be continued…©


“Let me see,” Spinostress snarls, “are you the God damned forsaken bird of stone who flew off the Insatiable Princess?  Ha! Ha! Ha! Captain, is this a bird?  Look at him, white as the innocent sheep, yet still a parrot…  How can it be?  Or is it white with fear, huh?

“He’s gained wisdom, your majesty,” the King tries as he too is silenced at once, a thick string now sticking to his mouth.

“And what’s this I see marked on your wings, you scum sucking bird of doom?” Spinostress continues, “tattooes, huh?  ‘ Love & Hate’.  You think yourself original?  Fashionable?  What world do you think you’re gonna save?  Come, come,” she orders her spinners, “come and observe the ridiculous creature who was once-bird-of-stone and turned tattooed-white-bird-from-hell.  Look how small and powerless he is and be grateful: amidst our world of threads and ropes, the need for wings will never be felt.”

Labaguette begins to contort and falls onto the floor, in pain.

“What are you doing to him?” The Captain asks.

“Well, Captain, in spite of what I might wish for, I haven’t touched one single feather of your miserable bird yet,” Spinostress retorts as Labaguette continues to struggle and wriggle.

This is when the word ‘Hate’ extracts itself from Labaguette’s wing and flies off to stick to Spinostress’ tangled mass of hair and disappears into it.  Spinostress’ guards gather around her, incredulous.

“Don’t you just stand here and look at me this way!” she says, “do something!”

“Flying tattoos…” one of the guards utters as one of Spinostress hair strand separates itself from her hair mass and slaps him in the face.

To be continued…©


He can see the King and the captain behind him.  They cannot catch him as he, with Love & Hate stuck onto his wings, is falling more rapidly than his friends.  He is alone, all alone now.  That is what he fears most.

“Don’t panic!” Love recommends, but as he and Hate look into the parrot’s eyes, all they can see is fear as Labaguette surrenders to its sheer power, shivering, shaking and wishing he were dead.  He is falling forever.  Hell.

It isn’t long before, several thin yet strong, sticky and slimy threads wrap themselves around the three friends, neatly spinning and turning them into small bundles of spider thread before bouncing them back up, high, high into the sky until, they reach Spinostress and her spinners once again.

“Whispering words came to us,” Spinostress explains as the trio is unravelled free of ties.

“Look at you!” Spinostress exclaims, “you weak and despicable creatures!  You owe your life to me a thousand times and over.”

“Who the fuck are you?” Labaguette, exclaims, forgetting his terror in a second, refreshed and revived, “You sure are an ugly sort.”

Immediately, one of the spinners fast weaves a strong string around Labaguette’s beak to silence him.

To be continued…©


“Look what you’ve done!” King Krackskull shouts to Captain Traumatic, “I trusted you.”

“We’ll be right,” the Captain answers in a trance knowing perfectly what awaits them.

“What did I tell you?” Labaguette shrieks as he zooms past the Captain trying to open his wings.

“FUCK!” he yells, “I can’t fly either!”

“The weight of the Light House Keeper is upon us,” Love reminds him, “it takes a while to—“

“—Why not say it earlier?”

“You’d be dead by now,” Hate retorts.

“It might have been better,” Labaguette answers.

There is something in Labaguette’s eyes, a light that has gone off.

“Can you feel it now?” Hate asks Labaguette.

“Falling…”, Labaguette whispers, breathless, “my wings…  how long?”

“Eternity,” Love retorts, “can you feel it now?”

“HEEEEEELP!” Labaguette screams as fear grips his soul.  He will never see the Insatiable Princess again.  It would have been so much better to keep travelling with her even if she never knew where she was going.  He will never feel the warmth and comfort of the Captain’s pocket again.  Who would have thought, he thinks, that I, Labaguette, worldly parrot-of-wisdom, friend and preferred talking bird to a Captain, would be unable to open my wings, and end up as a bird without purpose.  I, parrot and owner of used-to-be colourful feathers, I, bird of many lives and experiences, why could I not simply remain of stone?  I don’t want to be falling forever, non, non, non.

To be continued…©