THE INCREDIBLE ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN TRAUMATIC – 493

“Wanna live?” Captain Sunblast asks.

But the shuttle vibrates and everything in the cabin begins to float.  Soon enough, Captain Traumatic demands they be let out again.

“Birds cannot be forced to sit when they can fly,” Labaguette states as the King-Fool is prey to a burst of hilarity.

“Almost as good as being drunk,” he says.

“You can’t fix time,” Birdseye adds ominously, “this shuttle is damaged.  It is dangerous,” while the Captain repeats:

“Let us out!  Damn you Knights!  Let us out!”

“We have lift off,” Captain Sunblast insists and almost as soon as he utters these last words, the engines stop and an uneasy silence, like a virus of unfathomable consequences, infiltrates the cabin.

It takes longer for Captain Sunblast to comprehend what has just happened because in his mind’s eye the shuttle is an all-powerful and invincible God.  It is only when Captain Traumatic yells:

“God-damned you!  Get us out of this God-damned con job of a rocket ship!”

that Captain Sunblast unfastens his seat belt and, sweating profusely, crosses his arms, standing with his legs apart like a cowboy in a spaghetti western.  Finally, he can no longer resist it, for there is beauty in the perfection of a perfect misdemeanour, and he wipes the sweat off his forehead with one hand before rubbing it over his cosmonaut suit.

“You don’t look so well,” the King-Fool ventures, “this trip was rather short, has the shuttle—”

“—We’ve escaped the cracks of time in the nick of it.  We’ve been able to rewind to time zone -2,417,498,557,393,619 which is precisely where we need to be now to enable us to press the restart button.”

“What?  We were to move forward in time space, in the future,” the King-Fool says.

To be continued…

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THE INCREDIBLE ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN TRAUMATIC – 492

As fate has it, this universe gives them a plain tit for tat answer: a crack, not unlike that of lightning but with thunder resembling a zip unzipping, one that amplifies as they witness the apparition of a criss-cross pattern of bright zigzag lines, extending all around them.

“Thieves and liars!” Captain Sunblast insists, oblivious to the disintegrating surroundings, “I should have known better.  Why did you steal the time capsules?  Who gave you permission to even look at them?” he bellows.

More cracks appear in what was dark space matter.

“INSIDE NOW!” Captain Sunblast yells.

And, as the past, bleak coloured universe around them begins to collapse, shattering bit by bit, all seek cover inside the relative safety of the shuttle’s metallic walls.

“All the same,” Captain Traumatic says as he scampers inside the shuttle, “what’s done is done.”  And before he knows it, he and his crew are seated on, you guessed it, a grey sofa with automatic belts that sprout and strap around their shoulders and waists.

This is when Captain Traumatic notices the clinical, metallic, and instrumental nature of the shuttle’s insides.  All this grey, this white and more greys.

“Why have you no wood?  Where are your sheepskins?” he asks as perfectly designed helmets form out of large bubbles popping out of the helmet emergency distributor – a mere 3 x 7 centimetres copper and nickel-diamond combination pipe – and float a while before finding their owner and settling around their head and neck, securing a supply of oxygen and protecting them from the harmful glare of invisible universal rays.

“I won’t be framed” Labaguette says, “least of all by bubbles!” as he struggles to free himself from the helmet.

To be continued…