The breeze passing through the Insatiable Princess calms and refreshes.  Labaguette, exhausted by his mixed wishes and confused thinking, and before the Captain realises it, flies off and cradles into his regular, selected nesting pocket inside Captain’s jacket and falls into a deep slumber.  His dreams are full of Hooks, of key holes incrusted planets and of gigantic palm trees and seaweed intermingling to create new awesome singing plants under Chloroph and Stromae’s direction.  Gobbling shells are present, shells that swallow Labaguette’s meals causing the shells to grow in numbers and sizes.  Shells getting larger.  Shells everywhere.  Everywhere, everywhere…  He must choose one, get inside it and see what’s in it for him.

If only the Captain would stop hammering metal on the surface of a rum barrel to seal it against leaks.  Trust him to disturb the peace.  Couldn’t he bang somewhere else and hinder someone else’s dreams?  Labaguette opens one eye lid.  The metallic sound is still infiltrating his fast fading fantasy.  This sound is real.  Labaguette emerges from lethargy and looks at the rum barrel Captain Traumatic has repaired.  Then he hears the Captain snoring.  Captain Traumatic is fast asleep.  The background clamour is getting closer.

Now they all hear it.  The sound of clanking, of chains rattling and metallic doors slamming.

Surely not, the Captain thinks, surely not another yellow bus.

But the Insatiable Princess gently, breezily journeys through the unfamiliar depths of these unrecognisable skies, oblivious to the approaching, multiplying sounds.

“We’re going to jail, Captain!” Labaguette says, “fast and straight into the horrors of your initial wish.”

“Don’t be silly,” the King retorts, “there’s always an explanation.  An army of loyal and trusted knights perhaps?”

“From Mordor?” the Captain asks.

“300?” Labaguette insists.

To be continued…


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