Gigantic sparkly spurts of light increase in brightness and popping sounds, not unlike farts, make themselves heard except these aren’t farts at all. Lightning and thunder appear.
The monkeys give the ropes one last tug and one white, slimy cocoon squirts out of the whale’s back end, enwrapped in the monkey’s ropes. It is enrobed in smoke and jelly.
“Phew!” Labaguette exclaims.
“These monkeys aren’t sick,” the King says.
“They’ve grown,” the Captain remarks.
“The COMMANDER!” Labaguette exclaims, “he’s HERE! Look, look, look!”
The Captain and the King attempt to perceive the hint of the face they know with all their might.
“It’s a large bug,” the King concludes.
“Nothing more,” the Captain adds.
The monkeys secure their ropes and are frantically pulling up the cocoon back onto the ship’s deck. Now, small blasts burst out of each of Belchiore’s orifice. But it’s no longer mere fire and noise coming out of her belly: there are memories neatly tied in small bundles, objects mixed with day-to-day thoughts, anxious light bulbs and literary emotions of all kinds neatly woven into intricate knitted patterns, as if Belchiore’s stomach and bowels can’t take it anymore.
Is it possible that she caught the monkey’s disease as they healed going through her insides? Did the Commander’s devilish ways sent her into a deadly spin she can’t overcome? Maybe, it’s a little bit of both. Maybe it’s not one or the other.
One can’t really tell viewed from the Insatiable Princess’ s bridge and the King, the Captain and Labaguette rush to the monkeys’ help except they’re healthy: don’t need help. They’re already standing on the deck, securing the Commander in his cocoon against the edge of the ship. He can’t move, he can’t see and he can’t speak. Can he breathe?
To be continued…