Even recent history repeats itself: Colonel Loga jumps and Chloroph plunges after him while the two sides of the ship are now stretching so far apart from each other that all appears lost.  Birdseye reaches out for the tied up box.  Chloroph successfully retrieves a piteous but otherwise healthy Colonel, puts him back onto his legs and says:

“Bring me Spinostress!”

“She can jump,” the Colonel answers, “why, with her swinging ways, she should have no trouble—”

“—Holly crap Chloroph!” the Captain yells, pushing Spinostress off the edge of the Insatiable Princess into the vastness below before she has time to think what is happening.

“What is wrong with my beautiful, perfectly formed wings?” Colonel Loga mutters, too caught up in his own drama to even consider becoming aware of the dramatic events unfolding around him.

One box flies straight into his path and knocks him down.

“WHAT’S THIS?” he says, anger rising from deep within, “ORDER!” he tries, flapping his wings hopelessly.

When he stands up again, Chloroph is flying holding Spinostress and delivers her by Birdseye’s side.  Several of her extended tentacles are pointlessly attempting to hold the two halves of the ship from drifting further apart while others are holding Birdseye’s box tight and close to her body.  Her remaining rum soaked tentacles, are inside the box feeding it.

When she finally releases it, it remains by her side, silent, calm and if it had a face, serene.

“Gather!” Spinostress orders.

To be continued…



“Told you it’d take too long!” Labaguette says.

“You abandoned your post,” the Captain remarks, “which side are you on?”

Chloroph’s and the Colonel’s cocoons, caught precisely between each of the ship’s sides are stretching ominously.  Birdseye secures the box with ropes, stands by the edge of the split ship’s half and looks down into the void as the shower of boxes threaten to split the ship into a multitude of smaller pieces.  Then, bit by bit he deploys his wings.

“You can’t let it happen,” Labaguette whispers in the Captain’s ear, “I’m the chosen one.”

“Your wings!” the Captain says.

“What about them?” Birdseye asks.

“I thought—”

“—Never had such height before,” Birdseye says, “now, I, we stand a chance.”

Majestically, Birdseye, Master of Dances, jumps rising high into the air and plunges, a heavy rock, straight onto Chloroph’s stretched out cocoon before bouncing and falling into infinity.  Chloroph’s cocoon opens. He emerges from it with four large green wings shaped like oak leaves on his back.  Then, he flies down in pursuit of Birdseye.

“I should have been in the cocoon,” Labaguette carries on, “I must have one of my own.”

Almost simultaneously, Colonel Loga’s stretched out cocoon gives in, one side tearing from its mooring before hanging piteously off the ship, releasing its contents.  Now, Chloroph having secured Birdseye’s safety, plunges after the still jellified Colonel.

In no time, a slimy but otherwise conscious Colonel is standing by Birdseye.

“WATCH!” he yells as he deploys a pair of magnificent black and white feather wings with golden dots at its tips.

Labaguette passes out.

To be continued…


“—You don’t look like a male and you don’t act like a female.  It’s time you at least tried to be an it, Spino!” the Captain growls, grabbing a rum soaked rope and cutting one piece.

“Can’t be done this way,” Birdseye says, stopping the Captain before he squeezes rum out of the rope and into the jittery box.

“She won’t do it, did you not hear?”

“Spinostress has to be their leader if we’re going to get out of here alive.”

“Never done it before,” she says, “what makes you think it will work?

“He knows,” the Captain says.

“I know,” Birdseye insists.

“Gimme that,” Spinostress says, snatching the piece of rope from the Captain’s hands.

“Not like this,” Birdseye says.

“What now?” she retorts, “I told you, I’ve no idea—”

“—she may be beyond the time for—”


“Come here Spinostress!” Birdseye commands.  His voice is stern, his body rigid and his goggles shine in an insistent and convincing manner.  Then, he pulls Spinostress by the shoulder, clasps a few of her tentacles and wraps them in a rum soaked rope.

“Patience,” he says, “don’t move, trust me, it won’t take long.”

“Too long,” Labaguette say, “it’ll take too long.”

A mighty crack is heard.

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” the Captain yells.

The Insatiable Princess is splitting in two and is threatening to fall apart, unable to defend itself and fight the deranged, untamed boxes’ onslaught.

“NON!  Zat’s impossible !” Labaguette says.

“It is almost too late,” Birdseye remarks, standing, a nervous box still in his hands, looking helplessly as the other half of the ship already several meters away, an abyss separating him and Labaguette from the Captain, Spinostress, the guards and a monkey.

To be continued…


Spinostress soon realises the extent of the obstacle they face and runs with her guards inside the hull.

“We’re right in the thick of it!” the Captain says his knees shaking while dodging wild boxes from all sides, “and she thinks of nothing else than hide?  I can’t face the demise of my Insatiable Princess.”

Upon those words, Labaguette flies back to the Captain.

“Are you giving up?  Are you?  Oui?  Are you?”

“Steer her in the right direction, Labaguette!” the Captain orders.

“Me?  I—“

“—You have a GPS, use it.”

“But, but, but, Captain, the—”

“—What?” he says, a box narrowly missing his head.

“The rudder, it’s—“

“—Wanna be a hero?”

“Where are you going?”

Suddenly, Birdseye jumps high in the air, catches a loose, out of control box flying by and lands on his heels once more.

“They need a leader,” he says.




The Captain and Birdseye ignore Labaguette and join Spinostress inside the hull as she and her guards are patching up huge holes using the spread-out, rum soaked ropes as band aids.

“It will hold,” she remarks.

“Risky and impossible,” the Captain remarks.

“You’ll see.”

“How long for?”

“Feed her!” Birdseye says.

“I am not known for my motherly instinct,” she says, looking at Birdseye struggling to keep the box in his arms, “what—”

To be continued…


“CAPTAIN!” Labaguette yells in despair, “he—“

“—Stop and stick to your dream!”

“I shall be a hero.”

“Not again,” the Captain says.

“Fuck!” Spinostress echoes somewhat.

“Can you see now?” Birdseye asks.

“Oh give it up!” Labaguette retorts, sitting on his newly found friend’s shoulder, looking in the emptiness of the skies above RythmaRymosthesis, as if he could see something where nothing abounds.”

“BIRDS!” Spinostress yells, “I’m driving, shove off!”

“I can help you conquer this RythmaRymosthesis,” the Captain says.

“I’ve already made plans,” she insists.

“We could strike a deal.”

“Once a pirate—.”

“—You know your business better than I do.  You love nothing more than a challenge.”

“Speak your mind.”

“Did you see the Syck Monkey?”

“I know of its existence.  What has this got to do with—”

“—Did you meet him in person?”

“He’s a monkey.”

“Chloroph says he—“

A deafening crash is heard.  The Insatiable Princess shudders.

“It’s a box,” Birdseye says, “lost its ways.”

“Can’t be.  Boxes know where they’re going,” the Captain says.

“Their leader is disabled.”

“The conditions are ripe for a takeover,” Spinostress comments.

“TAKE SHELTER!” Labaguette screams as uncontrollable boxes appear out of the vacuum flying straight at them, crashing into the ship from all sides, a deadly menace.

Spinostress spins into action and begins swinging from ropes using her tentacles to knock the boxes out of the way, a valiant Ninja Turtle in the making.

In no time, Captain Traumatic resumes his position as Captain and takes hold of the rudder as Birdseye and Labaguette perche at the bow and observe crouching the bewilderingly congested skies.

“Just what we need,” the Captain mutters, “a couple of useless dreamers.”

To be continued…


“Fetch Birdseye!” the Captain whispers into the parrot’s ear.

“Why?” Labaguette asks.

“Do as I say!”

“I don’t like creatures with bird names that can’t fly.  Besides, he’s an odd bird.”

“Tell me you’re no stranger to absurdly named bearing birds that can’t fly no more.”

“What iz rrrong wiz my name?” Labaguette asks, losing his ability to speak faster than it takes him to utter a single word.

“Why, a flying French speaking bread stick isn’t uncommon in your world?  My, my, Labaguette, I—”

“—HEY YOU, BIRDZAI!” Labaguette yells.

And before the parrot has time to add anything else, Birdseye is by Spinostress’ side.

Labaguette flies onto the creature’s shoulder and looks into his goggles.

“Let’s say you read my mind, Birdzai.”

“Birdseye,” Birdseye corrects.

“How would you know if my pronoun-ziation is correct?”

“I hear it as you see it.”

“You see the intended spelling in my mind?”

“I know you can’t spell,” Birdseye says, “but—“

“—You know?”

“You’re simple-minded.  You think that if you could spell, you’d write it the way it is written in your parrot’s mind’s eye, understood?”

“Let’s say you can see what I’m thinking right now.  It’s about sharing information.  If you take your goggles off, I’ll be able to look into your mind and find what I’m looking for.”

“My eyes are my wings.  These goggles are an added extension to my body.  Were I to take them off, I’d lose my ability to see clearly.”

“I see clearly.”

“Reflections.  Your eyes are mirrors.  You have no soul.”

“I’m offended.”

“You’re a parrot.  Your word is of no consequence.”

To be continued…


“Wrap him in,” Birdseye says, “head to toe.”

The Captain reaches for his knife.

“He didn’t say slay him,” Labaguette comments.

“Shut up!  The wrapping need holes for the Colonel to—“

“—You’re in space, Captain.  You don’t need to breathe to survive,” Chloroph states.

Soon, the freshly mummified Colonel is laid inside the hull and wrapped in more layers of ropes.

“I’m free again,” Labaguette says, “good riddance.”

“I own you,” the Captain says.

“Can’t use a GPS can you?” Labaguette adds, “the Insatiable Princess and I are finally getting a sense of direction.”

“One hell of a cocoon,” the Captain says, ignoring the parrot, “is it going to fix him?”

“Spinostress’ latest concoction.” Chloroph says, distancing himself from all, stepping into one such laid out rope, rolling himself into another cocoon, in conformity.

“Why not try this too, Captain?” Labaguette asks.

“We never finished our conversation he and I.  Always eloping.”

“Should you care?”

“He’s having us on.  The Syck Monkey doesn’t exist,” the Captain mutters.   One grown up Monkey descends into the hull and begins to swing from rope to rope and ties the cocoons to one another.

To the exception of drunken slumber, Captain Traumatic doesn’t know about sleep, and back on deck, he must catch up with Spinostress as she steers the Insatiable Princess and urges her to take speed.  There is news to be had.

“You’ve seen the SyckMonkey?”

“I must focus.”

“The Insatiable Princess has a sense of direction.”

“You’ve lost touch with her.”

“Did you?”

“How could I?”


“Oui, Capitaine.”

To be continued…