“—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.
“Stop!” she orders.
To be continued…©