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Writer's pictureKL Forslund

NI11: Perfect Plan

Updated: Sep 22, 2019

“That’s a stupid plan Cap’n!” Cera stomped around Angus, who stood at the ship’s wheel.

Captain Raptor stood his ground. She’d come around. She was on a circular path, she’d make her clumpy foot noises and pace and before you know it, she’d be standing in front of Captain Raptor again. He just had to wait as he stood on the step to the poop deck, watching the crew raise the new mast.

Clump, clump, clump, clump, stomp, stomp, stomp, stomp, shamble, shamble, stop.

Cera looked up at Captain Raptor. He wore that smirk, the one that said he’d get his way. “Aye, Cap’n. We could dress up the crew in sundresses and bathing suits. Metri is clawsy with a needle and thread.”

The Captain smirked harder, “See, and we’ve got the deck chairs from that vacation resort we raided last year.”

Cera stomped harder, “But Cap’n, we’ll look like silly tourists in some kind of carnival cruise.”

“And defenseless. I know Captain King. He loves helpless targets.”

“Fine. I’ll wear the stupid sundress. How do you plan to get in front of The Tyrant’s Revenge?”

Angus cleared his throat. “That’s easy Cera. Captain figured out which way the big lummox went, and we just need to go the opposite way around the island.”

“Exactly, Angus,” said Captain Raptor as he stepped down and put his paw on Angus’s back. “Our ship is way faster. They’ve got all the chocolate milk they stole, plus their captain is a big fat, egg-sucking son of a purple...”

“Language Captain!” Angus motioned toward the cabin boy, “there’s young impressionable ears about.”

“Alright. Let’s get this plan going, then. Cera, finish the repairs then get us underway. I’ll get the crew ready to look like vacationing tourists with Metri. If we still have that tuxedo, we can make Juan be the maitre’d….” Captain Raptor rushed off to turn Wreckless Abandon into Ecstasy of Gold, a cruise ship.

By evening, the ship was cruising around the island, half of the crew was on deck, hamming it up with drinks while the house band played tropical music and Juan ran around serving drinks. Meanwhile, Captain Raptor found he had time to think while he waited below deck in his hiding place, his face lit by the blue, unblinking LED overhead lights. He should have pondered when Wreckless had overhead lights installed. But instead, he muttered to himself, “Wasn’t there a retirement village or something on the other side of the island?”

 

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