As the Captain returns to his musing, he wishes he could have a conversation, a debate with that monster: if only Spinostress agreed to a death row prisoner express his last thoughts, he could convince her to look at things the way he does, especially when it comes to nightmares and real life turning into them.  But Labaguette deciphers Captain Traumatic’s wandering thoughts; your timing is inappropriate, Captain, he thinks as he escapes from the jacket and flies off to perch on the King’s shoulder, only to start whispering into his ear.  Soon, the King looks back into the parrot’s eyes with a baffling and unfathomable spark of luminous intensity etched onto his face before he grabs Labaguette’s neck and begins to squeeze it, slowly, confidently, inexorably, taking great care as Labaguette puts on the greatest show of the universe (at least in his mind’s eye).

“RELEASE HIM AT ONCE!” Captain Traumatic orders, shocked.

“I’m peckish,” the King retorts.  Spinostress grins.  There’s nothing more gratifying than that of a spectacle where enemies are killing each other mercilessly and for reasons no one can understand.

Labaguette’ eyes roll backward, his wings, neck and legs go limp.  He’s always known that center stage is where he is meant to be and one day, for sure, he will.  By now, all believe that yet another universal King has lost it, that the trauma of losing one’s crown has a lot to answer for and that as far as Kings have it, Kingdoms aren’t what they used to be: thrones that come by on offer are few and rare as well as best left alone.

To be continued…


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