Imprinted on their suits, in bright shiny fluorescent colours, the letters and symbols of the Nasa Recovery Space Shuttle, CT Mission sparkle and dazzle for all to see, for all to notice.
“Howdy!” Labaguette says, saluting with one wing lifted.
The Fool runs around the cosmonauts, pulling faces, dancing, jingling his wand like a mad sorcerer in trance.
“Enough!” the Captain orders, walking towards them, his brain scanning for answers within: Why the armour? He wonders, Why the helmets? Inside they look human but if they were to remove their protective gear, what would we find inside? Are they who they pretend to be? What do they want?”
But the three cosmonauts stop, stand still and straight, their right arm reaching for their forehead, an unexpected salute.
“This is suspicious,” the Captain thinks as he walks around them, “they don’t know me. I’m a pirate. A first rate pirate, a true blue pirate: known beyond and above all other creatures across space for my… my rum trade.”
“You’re looking for rum?”
“Are you the Captain of this ship?”
“I’ve plenty of it. I will negotiate with you once you show us the way out of here. It isn’t safe. Are we your prisoners?”
Upon these last words, the middle and taller cosmonaut takes a steps forward:
“Ay, Ay Captain Errol Seth Anectodick, we salute you.”
“You’re mistaken. I’m Captain Traumatic.”
“Not mistaken. You are the long lost Captain Anectodick we have been searching for. See?” the cosmonaut says holding a piece of paper with the face of Captain Traumatic printed on it.
“Who are you?”
“Captain Ford Sunblast, and this is Joe Starcrusher, second in command, and third is Bill Clusterflame. At your service Captain Anectodick.”
To be continued…