Enough is enough.  Inside a pirate’s soul looms but the horror of the shade.

“What shade?” the Captain asks, wondering at the fickleness of his mind, “what shade?  Where’s Recovery Space Shuttle 593?”

“My, my Captain,” Labaguette remarks, “I’ve been waiting for your blood to boil out of its lethargy for some time now.”

This time, a fish hits Birsdeye in the face dislodging his goggles for an evasive second as the giant shadow of a monkey flies by, hanging from a rope, followed by three smaller monkeys all chucking fish on the ship’s deck, hanging from the white ropes they so dexterously made when living inside the Insatiable Princess’ hull.  Birdseye’s takes off his goggles and to Labaguette’s and the Captain’s bewilderment, throws beams of fire at the passing ropes and at the fish.  In less than a second, an uneasy darkness, silence and the smell of fried fish infiltrates the atmosphere.

“Some talent!” the Captain exclaims, “you can’t bottle things up like that Birdseye.  Why not use this before when we needed?”

“Precisely,” Birdseye says, “I too have had enough.”

“His blood too has come to boiling point,” Labaguette adds, “and now we’ve fried fish.”

“It’s disappointing,” the Captain says, “all that time spent with the Monkeys and now they act as if we were their enemies, keeping secrets, and playing games with us.  To think they grew up with us.”

“Now you see,” Birdseye says.

“That’s not good enough Birdseye!  Even you got caught in their game.”

“They belong to another egg,” Labaguette comments.

“World,” the Captain corrects as he collects the fried fish from the deck and throws them overboard.

But before he has time to utter another word, a ‘clonk’ is heard as each fish lands on a metallic surface.

To be continued…



Truly, really, honestly… how could it be that this crew’s actions could be dictated by nothing more than a voice?  A voice speaking for egg shells, an enticing, reassuring, mesmerising and much obliging voice, were it not so insidiously commanding them with no available alternatives?  What else lurks in the dark when egg shaped lights are off and ignorance catches one unaware?

“I don’t like this,” Labaguette whispers.

“They can hear you,” Birdseye says.

“FUCK OFF!” the Captain yells suddenly, screaming at the top of his head for the whole universe to hear.

“Captain!” Labaguette and Birdseye exclaim in unison as a medium size fish flies into the Captain’s face before landing on the ship’s deck.

“What was that for?” the Captain asks.

“I’ll carry a fish egg back,” Birdseye decides, convinced he must obey.

“It’s a fish,” the Captain remarks.

“It’s a salmon.  It’s female.  Inside are its eggs,” Birdseye exclaims.

“I’ll carry the flag,” Labaguette continues.

“This is an insult to my sort.  YOU LOT!!  I’M A PIRATE!!” the Captain yells to the darkness, to the egg shaped lights, to the invisible monkeys.  “I want nothing to do with fishing rods, a fish or fish eggs!” the Captain says.

Then the voice, unaffected, proceeds to inform them how the recycled egg shells are used to help mutating proteins contained within the walls of the shells, between the fine, delicate membrane surrounding the egg wall and the egg wall itself.

“Science doesn’t grab me,” Labaguette states.

“The proteins could be used to polish your feathers for example,” the Captain sneers.

“More eggs.  More stars,” Birdseye comments.

“You dream too much,” Labaguette says, smoothing his purple most feather.

To be continued…


“The illusion is real,” Birdseye says.

A third spot of light, egg shaped, appears presenting the shadow of a rocket standing, emitting puffs of smoke, in waiting, as if it is ready to take off.

Then a voice, not unlike that of an air hostess but less serviceable, less predictable, and unquestionably more spellbinding, like that of a regular mermaid, one with hair made of gold thread and with diamond shells covering her breasts begins her song.  And this is how, while the monkeys, still hanging by their tail and still munching, still chomping, the Captain, Birdseye and Labaguette learn about the eggs shaped lights and how these are extracted from the real egg shells from which the monkeys were born.

The crew ponder and wonder in amazement at the idea that the Syck Monckey himself would have been nurtured inside such an egg and that he would have been born from it.  How could it be that he had not created himself by pure legendary and mythical coincidence?  Or how could it be that he had not been in existence since all things began to exist?  He is, all things considered, a fluke of nature, a freak, a revered loner with much influence and, had he acquired the gift of speech, a wonder creature with much to brag about.

But the mermaid’s singing does not allow for lengthy musing, merely enough for the crew to ingest, understand and know what is to be done.  What?  Wait a minute.  Who said something would have to be done?  And by whom?

To be continued…


“Where are we?  Why is it so quiet?” the Captain asks, “Why are we forbidden to see?”

“We’re in a cavern,” Birdseye maintains, “the deepest cavern of them all.”

“Reckon this is the Syck Monkey’s den?” Labaguette asks.

“The ropes have come to life.  They have an intent of their own,” the Captain remarks, “they followed the Monkeys who followed their father.  They’ve an agenda.”

“This is the last frontier,” Birdseye remarks.

“Wasn’t that where the King-of-all-Things was already?”

“All things end here.  All things begin here.”

“Can you talk in a practical way Birdseye?” Labaguette asks, “which comes first?  The—”

“—it dep—”

“—Birdseye!” the Captain interrupts.  “Are you scanning?”

“It’s half full.”


But their conversation is interrupted by a barely perceptible draught.

“Who’s here?” the Captain urges.  And then:

“Give it back to me now!” as his hat disappears and a strident shrill forces its way through their permeable skulls

“Shhhhhhh” a voice utters, undoing each blindfold swiftly as an egg shaped spot of light appears in the darkness: the clear shadow of four monkeys hanging upside down,  holding each other conveniently by the tail, the Syck Monkey at the top.  Quietly, they are squeezing some fruit and eating its inside before discarding its shell.

“OI!” the Captain yells as the shadows, undisturbed, keep their chomping and munching.

“It’s a trick!” Labaguette says.

Another egg shaped spot of light appears on the opposite side of the Monkeys.  The shadow of a flag is being waved inside it by an invisible hand.

To be continued…