“Monkeys!” the Captain orders, “secure this trunk with your ropes and let the descent begins!”

Now a feral parrot flies out of the Captain’s jacket, its beak untied, freed once more by its sheer strength.

“See if you can ever bloody get me now!” he insists, as the Captain’s hand is too slow to catch the wild bird.

One glimpse of the look in the Captain’s eyes is sufficient for the Monkeys to react: with Labaguette now flying downwards and sideways, they throw ropes around the trunk that solidify sideways, allowing the monkeys to spring on them, as leaves and more branches sprout when their feet merely touch them.

“NO! GET US DOWN!” the Captain yells, instantly recognising his mistake, “FORGET THE BIRD!  GET WORKING!”

But the Monkeys, propelled and incensed by the activity that surrounds them cannot resist the urge to try and catch the damned parrot.  Besides, they’re too far gone to listen to the Captain.

The old princess, her guards, the King and Captain Traumatic watch in disbelief as Labaguette flies erratically, down, left, right, only to soon climb back up again towards the portals that lay on the outer edges of the sky, an insatiable thirst in his throat, that of finding out what is behind the grilled doors at any cost, even to that of his own life.  Born a hero, always a hero he muses.  Perhaps he could escape, disappear from this positively doomed ship and bring back reinforcement or be inspired to be the reinforcement itself, like Napoleon or Clint Eastwood.  The Monkeys are right behind him as the branches now grow quickly spurred by a voracious and out of control appetite to come to life.

To be continued…


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