At the mere bat of an eyelid, the Monkeys execute the King’s wish and throw the Captain, still tied, into the Hook. Following closely behind the Captain, Labaguette, wife and kids fly in of their own free will.
It seems for a while that the Monkeys struggle to hold the ropes steadily. The Captain may be small, pig headed and frail looking altogether but when he falls, he weighs a ton.
“Ah frail creatures!” Chloroph exclaims.
“Mere Monkeys. Frail, stupid and useless,” the King carries on, “ever since they were abandoned by their father, they—“
Upon these words, the Monkeys look at each other and appear to reach an understanding. Releasing the ropes that hold them bound to the Captain, they leap to the edge of the Hook, look at the King and Chloroph with a spark of smartness and smugness that was never there before, and, without any hesitations, jump into the mirroring liquid, or whatever it is that is reflecting their image, undulating and seemingly wet.
Now the King feels like a fool.
“You’re an idiot,” he says to Chloroph.
“You insulted the Monkeys.”
“You started it, taunting them, humiliating them.”
“I barely remarked that they looked frail.”
“Leave me out of the blame game, will you?”
“I wouldn’t be stuck with you were it not for you.”
“You jumped in it before, go look for them; you can come to no harm.”
“I don’t trust you.”
“You’ve got a way of turning the tables around fast.”
“Where are they?”
“You’ve seen it before. Labaguette jumped in it a second time without further ado, why don’t you?”
To be continued…