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I twisted my entire self with vast vigor, as much as my leggoids and armoids would allow!
The villaniest red noodles dropped me into the ground, as I wiggled muchly, fleetering out of its moist twines.
I’m quite good at wiggling!
After I was dropped I grabbered a stabby rusty pipe from the ground [as such nasty critter required a qualifying stabbery for handling my chops without asking first].
I squeezed the rusty pipe end with me handles to make it extra sharp. My right eye told me that it is now 37% more stabby with 56% chances of tetanus. Excellent! I like it when me eye judges me fitting weapons of choice.
“Fetch Snippy!” Captain commanded me with grace and deep sternness.
I like fetching Snippies, it makes my right eye less itchimanding.
My hand itches to shish kabob Snippy with my sword, but I know I mustn't or it would disappoint Captain.
One day surely, I will be allowed to, for Snippies break too many rules of Captania and Captain’s patience isn’t eternal. One day, Snippy shall receive his comeuppance for being an ungodly ham!
For now I will follow my orders, and stabby at the spooder flesh-beastie that dared steal Captain’s property, as I am clearly bestest and properest citizen of Captania [unlike that foolish Snip-crab that I have to rescue now from clutches of the flesh-beast.]
With my powerful legs, taking a Goodly run [blessed by our lady and savior captain, of course] I jumps upwards, skipping on numerous flesh limb-noodles.
I take flight like any Good Pilot, flapping my mind wings to retrieve the wretched Snippz inch-wined in the nasty spooder's graspie. I fly and slash, making a most delightful sashimi I can feed to Photoshop later.
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I know not where I learned such fine skills of cuttery. Perhaps I was a pirate in me past life? Or a chef?
I catchle a view of the horrid little black and white and bigly eyebrowed goblin-Snip held in a big skelly party.
The dastardly Snipper is full of primordial soup vibes, like a spotted onion swimming in tomato sauce he is!
With Captain’s blessed eyes watching upon me I reach out to the horrid little Snippy, and he reaches back. I don’t like to lie to my Captein, but maybe if I do a little pretend, Zee will be pleased to think I do not utterly and completely loathe him like I do.
But just as I nearly grab his terrible hand-sauseyges, that garbeleged spoody wraps around me and makes me drop my slicy devicey!
This is incredibly unjustful and I want to speak to its boss who is an undoubtedly an even greater spooder of flesh from an entire planet of flesh. A place where trees of fractal flesh point to the stars and whisper discouraging words.
As I am squirmly wiggling to free myself from its meat web, I hear a terrible uttering from Captain.
“Looks like I am going to need more minions,” my dear captain says.
Does Zee really mean that?
Could I really have failed so boobulously?
Am I really kicked out of Captainia? This must be a nightmare Snipply so often complains of!
Captain loves us [unsure why Zee loves snippy] and would never just abandon us! This must be a test of faith Zee hath set up for us! Oh what a clever jape I am being put through! Of course! But now I am faced with a most unslightly conundrum.
Do I pretend I do not know and beg for my Captainia-hood back? Or stay strong in the knowledge that Captain is simply testing me?
If Captain sees me crying, Zee might be disappointed and my desert treat will be lessened. But, what if I need to show my Lady how much I care for my fine and bootyful country?
This parable is so confuzzling, I might as well be called Stanley. That was a jape! I am called Pilot and that’s always who I am and who I’ll be…
Except my stinky right eye disagrees! I am not this Hatchenson fellow! How incredibly rude! Maybe my right eye was ownered by someone else before? Someone detectively-else?
Perhaps I was the beast to my wonderous captein’s beauty, and my right eye is all that remains after my glorious trainformation?
Many things to ponder after my spooderly capchure.
Many things to focus on instead of the several red peepole now glowering at me so rudely. Be they the spooder’s prisoners as well? I do not think I want to be like them. I shall politely refuse to be a part of this establishment, for there is only room for captain in my heart and pineapples bits in my brain!