“What’s changed?” the Captain asks Birdseye, “you were confident swimming or flying in it, or whatever it is you did.”

“That I knew.  Anything else, dangers, I don’t feel.”

“Because there’s no imminence and you can’t call it at will,” the Captain concludes.

“Slow!” Labaguette says, “you’re too slow Birdseye.”

And this is how, with barely one single syllable words, Labaguette convinces the Captain to stay.  And this is how, with so little foresight available, Birdseye convinces the Captain to send a few boxes out as explorers of their peculiar environment.

Even the Monkeys are it.  They have decided that the water is ice and smooth glass all at the same time and they are sliding on it using their feet, hands, bellies and anything else they can think of so long as they can muster a giggle.

“This is no party ground, you monkeys!” the Captain yells as the boxes come out of the ship’s hold and begin scanning the area, led by Birdseye.

“There isn’t much to explore,” the King says, “there’s nothing to see, it’s a flat, smooth and transformable lake.”

“Your vision is no longer fit for a King,” Labaguette says, “you don’t look like one and you don’t act like one.”

“Where’s your modesty?” the King remarks.

“Looks matter,” Labaguette answers, “I’ve up-ranked since my feathers have been cosmetised and my flying ability restored.”

“This new outfit is kingly and I feel happy in it,” the King says, “I feel renewed.”

“Then this water is holy,” Labaguette remarks, “you’ve been baptised.”

“It’s no water.”

“It’s magic.”

“It’s science.”

“From now on, I’m Umbilicoberto.”

To be continued…


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