There are spinners and creatures unravelling down from all the corners of the big hall, seen and unseen.  Some side with the Commander, others, mostly, side with the Spinner-Queen.

“My name is SPIN-TO-KILL,” she blasts, furious, “It shall remain my name for as long as I live!”

Even for someone who doesn’t know who they are, isn’t ‘Spinostress’ sufficient Labaguette whispers to himself? And as all hell breaks loose, three tiny white monkeys, zoom past the ugly spinner queen in a flash of white and blinding light, collect the King, the Captain, Labaguette and the Commander and disappear in the dark, hazy mist of war.

“FOLLOW THEM!” she screams.

With war come epic battles and chaos as well as unacceptable disorderly conduct on any traitors’ part, at least, in the eyes of the betrayed.  Quickly, the prisoners reach the Insatiable Princes as the Queen’s traitors retreat and protect them.

To think her people had dared to hope that they could be cured of their headaches.  To think they believed the Captain had a solution to all their ills close at hand as well as that of their fate.  To think the riddle would give away her real name and give her a new life, a new identity, had she ever had one.  What a fool this Queen had been once more.  Spinostress spins herself down to try and catch the Captain and his crew herself.  They are fast but not as fast as she can be.  Who are these white creatures?

To be continued…©



“Shut up, Labaguette!”

“I-I-I know the cure.”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!” Spinostress blasts,  “GOD DAMMIT, BIRD!  Now, let us talk about my name.  Let us talk about the riddle.  Let us talk about YOUR name, Captain.  THERE’S a riddle.”

“My name is Captain Traumatic.  What I might or might not be called isn’t of your concern.”

“Don’t you ‘big word’ me, Captain.  You’re a pirate, nothing more.”

“Shall I do the honours?” the Commander requests.

“Are you daring me, Commander?” Spinostress asks.

“Why, Ma’am, I would not dare daring you.  On the other hand,” the Commander says with a smooth voice, “I’d be delighted to help you unmask this traitor in front of your people.”

“Commander, you may have found that a roaming Pirate-with-no-name has invaded our spinning space, but you confided in him and told him of words that should never have been spoken off between the two of you.  You forgot all too easily that I have eyes and ears everywhere needed and that it didn’t exclude you.  You were no exception.”

Silence is death.  Nothing can survive this queen’s wrath.


To be continued…©


Fuck, the Captain thinks, everyone will see them.  But Spinostress’ voice echoes in the large edifice:


“Your majesty, I—“

“—You do not have my permission to whisper, not even a single word.  You, Captain, are a blasphemer of the worst kind.”

Labaguette perches on the Captain’s shoulder, proud again and ready to defend his master with his would be knowledgeable words.

“You promised,” Spinostress continues, “that the Syck Monkey’s rope could be reconstituted from the scraps I gave you permission to get from the stoned monkey above your ship.”

“The recipe may just need some adjustment,” the Captain says, “I could help you if you’d—”


“It’s just a matter of time until I—.”

“—YOU’VE WASTED MY TIME!  If you must know, Captain, the recipe worked for a day.  Then, the loyal and trusted Spinner who submitted himself to the trial fell into a slumber from which he hasn’t yet recovered.  So unless you can wake him up right here, right now, your fate and that of your friends is sealed, Captain.  This is a fool’s game, your game, that of a cheat, that of a liar.  You called the shots then.  Now, I do.”

“I have the answer you seek,” Labaguette insists, smoothing his feathers with calm, cool and unusual collectedness.

Now the King lowers his eyes to the ground.  A pearl of sweat begins its descent on the Captain’s forehead.  The Commander appears overly contented.  Spinostress’ eyes, although still invisible, emit a ray of light out of the mane’s inscrutable depth, in a manner never observed before.  There are times when even fear must be feared and Labaguette’s calm might have been a mere flicker of hope that died with her stare.

To be continued…©


“Can’t you see I’m all love and well meaning?”

“Oh for fuck’s sake!  Spare me the wishy-washy bit, will ya?”

“As you wish: I’ll whisper into Spinostress’s ears, and rest assured that it will reach her conscience, that you kept some of the statue’s scrap for your own trials because all that you aspire to is to be freed from any unhealthy ties that bind you to her.  You want to abandon ship, you’re the worst kind of traitor: playing both camps until you get what you want.”

Now the Commander, with Love on his shoulder, heads towards the dark rocks.

“She must speak to you,” the Commander announces to the Captain and his crew.

“Spinostress has re-created the rope?” Labaguette enquires.

“It’s not what you think.”

They are led to Spinostress who receives them in an enormous room reminiscent of churches bigger than the Captain has ever seen – not that he’d ever set foot in one before, except to pillage – and more colossal that his boundless imagination can fathom.  There are also numerous spinners, so many that he begins to doubt any escape plan could succeed.  Why, the Captain wonders, is it possible that all the hopes of this world lay on his shoulders, that of the King and that of Labaguette?  The air they breathe is cold, damp, and bears the tell-tale signature of ominous and evil things that may come their way.

There are creatures of no known origins hanging from the dim lit, high, and curved ceilings, and, higher than most, just above them, three white tiny monkeys, shiny, bright and happy looking are on their trail, following their every move, unnoticed by all.

To be continued…©


These are dark days for Captain Traumatic, King Krackskull and Labaguette as they await eagerly to know their fate, tucked away under the shadow of the darkest rocks and tied securely by Spinostress’ guards.  They aren’t allowed out to see daylight and are left to linger here for many nights, wrapped into timelessness.  They are hungry, they are thirsty.  They don’t know what is taking Spinostress so long.  She should have worked out the bosonic thread’s recipe by now.  Hate and Love too are struggling to live, tangled as they are in Spinotress’ hair.  Hate is in so deep, it finds it almost impossible to breath and it, as a word of pure hate, is dying slowly and hopelessly under the weight of spite and resentment that is burning inside the old spinner queen.

But Love has extracted itself from the surface of the metallic hair and reaches out for the Commander’s shoulder.  It begs him to reconsider his position in this whole miserable state of affair and to go and talk to the Captain and his friends.

“Reassure them,” it says, “tell them we’ll find a compromise.”

“I want them to experience a painful death,” he answers.

“I thought you and the Captain were friends!”

“Didn’t you see me deliver the Captain, a traitor, to Spinostress?”

“There’s more to the Captain than you’d care to think.”

“Oh, I’ve heard it before, it is nonsense, go away!”

“The Captain has vision and can offer much to those who follow him.”

“And what is that?”


“You’re conniving with the Captain.”

To be continued…©


“Look,” the Captain insists, “suppose your story is true, how could Spinostress improve herself and let go of you, spinners?”

“You promised you’d help me see.”

“We would need Spinostress to believe that she will remember her name and understand the making of the Syck Monkey’s rope.”

“She has a name.  There’s a riddle, you said so yourself.”

“What if she can’t unravel the riddle?  Just imagine: she would have had a name in a language that none of us is aware of.  She—“

“—The librarians could help just as much as you could if you’d care.”

“They’re dead.”

“We intercepted some of them, saved them as they floated in space.”

“She’s untamed, unwise and despicable.  Why would she listen to them?”

“Enough of your riddles!  All we need from you is the statue sample.”

“I don’t understand” the Captain says, “You were going to pledge allegiance to the Insatiable Princess and crew?”

The Commander remains silent.  Now he thinks that the Captain’s sort doesn’t even deserve a single comment because he’s unstable and unreliable.  Can’t be trusted.  Nope.  To think he believed him for a while.  Hope makes one foolish.

He spins him back to Spinostress.  At a short distance behind, three tiny white monkeys are watching.

“You took your time,” Spinostress blurts out as the Commander delivers the Captain to her.

“He can’t be trusted,” the Commander answers as he hands the statue’s scraps to her.

“We shall see,” Spinostress says.

To be continued…©


“Then, altered spiders and servants-creatures thought it ingenious to meet, mix and match their analogous elements into one more complete creature that became compliant and able to produce thread from their own bodies.  Their hair grew into transmission wires connected to their leader who could see what they’re up to at will thanks to the integrated shadow cartoon capability that was incorporated into them through experimental medicine.  It didn’t take long for Spinostress to realise that this meant newly acquired physical and mental abilities, especially power, and that if she didn’t join in the experiment, she’d lose control and respect of her peers as well as that of surrounding planets.”

“There’s still no rope created and you guys look all the uglier for it.”

“Speak for yourself.”

“Besides, do you really believe some guy could have swept her ugly sort off her feet?”

“She was beautiful then.”

“You aren’t that old, you couldn’t possibly have witnessed all this.”

“You don’t believe me, do you?  Listen, this is how the story goes: it is a legend, but not quite.”

“I reckon she was born like this.  She would have been abandoned by her parents early on, not only because she was that ugly, but especially because she was nasty as sin, a plotter, a power hungry lazy, slimy and slithering snake of the worst type.”

“What’s got into you?  Don’t you know your own name?  You were going to help bring clarity.”

“’Captain Traumatic’, that’s my name.  It’s all I have.”

Now the Commander looks at the Captain sideways, and, just like that, he once again wraps the Captain tightly into a neat bundle of spidery ties that inhibits his breathing.  Foreshadow

There’s an almighty war coming.

To be continued…©