“That’s a real shame,” said Kumquat shaking her
head.
“You mean about Felix and what happened to
him?” asked Wilbert.
“No,” answered Kumquat, “I mean that the hull
of the For Sale is wedged so tightly in those rocks
that not even Hazel’s best magic can lift her out. It’
s probably two weeks of hard hiking to get to this
fortress Felix is talking about. In the For Sale, we
could have been there in an hour or so.”
“Oh,” said Wilbert.
“I’m sorry Felix,” said Kumquat, “I don’t mean
to say that what has happened to you is not—”
“Don’t worry Kumquat,” said Felix. “I know
what you mean. It is going to be a tough hike to
Pewtrewsha’s fortress.”
Felix, Kumquat, Wilbert and Schmoor stood on
the rocky shore as they watched the high tide
begin to recede. From where they stood, the For
Sale looked to be in plenty of water. But by the
time low tide would arrive, the full story of their
predicament would be made clear. Before dawn, a
second freakish storm had come up and pulled the
ship off the beach. The For Sale was now trapped
between two huge dragon’s teeth of rock like a
popcorn kernel between a rug rat’s chompers.
“Let’s give it another try!” shouted Brownbeard
from the ship’s bow. “I’ll go down to the engine
room and open the carburetor on the ship’s
vertical thrusters. When you hear the engine’s
whine, you kick in with your antigravity ray and
maybe we’ll get her out!”
The object of Brownbeard’s directive was
standing waist high in the water with a look of
defeat upon her face.
“Brownie,” Hazel shouted back. “First of all,
the vertical thrust engines don’t have a carburetor!
They are fuel injected. Secondly, we’ve tried this
a hundred times now and we haven’t gotten
anywhere! I’m exhausted. Each time I try to
generate an antigravity ray it’s like running a ten-
kilometer road race! Enough already.”
“What’s a kilometer?” asked Brownbeard.
“Never mind,” said Hazel, “Let’s just take a
break and then begin to get ready for our mission.”
“As captain of the For Sale, I say we give it
one more try!” said Brownbeard.
Hazel glared at Brownbeard.
“Excuse me?” she said hotly.
“Please,” said Brownbeard.
“Brownie, what are you—why are—never
mind. Whatever. Okay. Fine.”
“All right, here I go,” said Brownbeard as he
disappeared below deck.
“This will never work,” said Kumquat. “We’re
just wasting time.”
“Don’t be so negative,” said Wilbert.
“I’ll be negative if I want to be,” shot Kumquat.
“Well, I just thought you might want to try
something different for a change. I guess I was
wrong,” said Wilbert.
“Are they always like this?” Felix asked
Schmoor.
Schmoor shrugged apologetically. Then, with a
twinkle in his eye, Schmoor reached into his
pockets and pulled out a mismatched pair of dirty
old socks. Kumquat and Wilbert shouted back and
forth, neither listening to what the other was
saying. Schmoor quickly and expertly shoved a
sock into the wide open mouths of Kumquat and
Wilbert. Felix laughed. Kumquat and Wilbert
were silenced not only by the socks, the toes of
which protruded slightly from their mouths, but
also from the shock. Neither Kumquat nor Wilbert
would have ever predicted that Schmoor would
part with a sock, let alone two!
The vertical thrusters on the For Sale began to
whine as Brownbeard raced their engines. Hazel
moved her arms rhythmically as she tried to
generate an antigravity force field and concentrate
it in the palms of her hands. She chanted in synch
with the ocean waves and two areas of pale blue
luminescence appeared in her palms. Then, from
the tips of her fingers, two rays of energy shot
forth and hit the For Sale just above the water line.
The ship began to vibrate. The engines whined
in protest to Brownbeard’s urging. Hazel
maintained the beam intensity with all her might.
Slowly, very slowly, the For Sale began to rise
from the water and rocks. A wretched scraping
sound could be heard as the rocks tried their best
to hold to the hull of the ship.
Kumquat spat the sock out of her mouth and
said, “Son-of-a-gun!”
Wilbert slowly removed the sock from his
mouth and said, “I don’t believe it!”
Felix and Schmoor watched with amazement as
the For Sale climbed from out of the grip of the
dragon’s teeth.
“Okay, just gently back her into deep water,”
whispered Kumquat.
Hazel’s entire body trembled with the effort.
She was really getting very little assistance from
the For Sale’s vertical thrusters. When the power
of the engines ebbed just a bit, it was too much for
Hazel’s strength. She collapsed into the water, her
body twitching and trembling. The For Sale
crashed back down into the wedge of rock and the
sickening sound of crunching timbers could be
heard.
“Oh! That’s not good!” shouted Wilbert. “Come
on! We’ll need to get our stuff out of the For Sale!
She’s probably taking on water right now!”
“Hazel! Hazel! Are you okay!” shouted
Kumquat as she raced to check on her mistress.
Felix and Schmoor followed. There would be
no quick and easy trip to the fortress of
Pewtrewsha. The For Sale was now a wreck best
fit for salvage.
* * *
Everything on the bottom level of the For Sale
had to be relocated somewhere above, as the
lower floor was completely flooded. Hazel had
outfitted the ship for almost all disasters that
might be encountered during air, space or sea
travel. But the pumps below could not handle the
massive amount of water the For Sale was now
taking on. The crew packed as much food and
water as they could comfortably carry. Felix
would be able to show them what plants, mosses,
lichens and fungi were edible. Kumquat cleaned
and fed her pets. Hazel put a spell on the cages so
that they’d remain clean for a month’s time. After
a month, if they had not returned, the cages would
open and the animals would be free to leave.
“But they’ll never survive here!” cried
Kumquat. “They’re not accustomed to this cold
climate!”
“I know, sweetie,” said Hazel. “They’re only
hope is for us to make it back in a month’s time.
They’ll be safe in the cages until then.”
“Can’t we bring them along?” pleaded Kumquat.
“Yes, please,” said Wilbert. “I’ll get tired of
eating plants for who knows how long.”
“No, Kumquat,” said Hazel firmly. “We can’t
take your pets with us and you know that.”
“Then can’t you make your spell for two
months rather than one?” cried Kumquat. “If it
takes us two weeks to get there and two weeks
back, and we don’t know how long we’ll be
fighting with Pewtrewsha to free the children, then
how can a month be long enough?”
“Kumquat! I can’t tie my magic up in a cage-
cleaning spell for two months! I’m being quite
frivolous with a one month spell! Now cut it,”
ordered Hazel.
Kumquat turned away with a tear in her eye.
Hazel was right and she knew it. But Hazel felt
bad and without telling her cat what she was
doing, added two more weeks to the spell.
“All righty!” said a strangely cheerful
Brownbeard. “Let’s head ‘em up and move ‘em
out!”
* * *
It seems Brownbeard had come to terms with
the fact that the next few weeks were to be his
last. He did not think for a minute that this small
rag-tag army of six would be any match for a
sorceress and her army, but that was not really the
point he decided. The victory would be in the
journey he told himself. His heart was where it
belonged. He was living for something larger than
himself. And that, he thought, was a good note to
end on.
Now, Wilbert and Schmoor were of cheerful
disposition as well, but then neither doubted the
inevitability of their victory. Never while working
with Hazel had they ever faced doom. Always, no
matter how critical the situation, always they had
snatched victory from the jaws of defeat. Well, if
not victory, they always came out of any
predicament relatively unscathed.
Felix was cheerful as well, but not because he
thought they would have any success on this
fools’ mission. Rather, his smile was because
after years of loneliness and sadness, once again
he was around people who seemed to care about
him. That was more than enough for him. Thus,
although returning to Pewtrewsha’s fortress filled
him with an apprehension which teetered on the
brink of dread, still the comfort of real
companionship and the opportunity to fight back
propelled this brave lad on. Only Hazel and
Kumquat were of ill-temperament as the party
began its journey inland. Of course, Kumquat was
probably upset simply due to the argument with
Hazel over her pets. But Hazel had other thoughts
weighing on her mind. Hazel knew better than the
others just how powerful a sorceress could be.
And what about Pewtrewsha’s consort Morlox?
Was he a warlock? His name sure made him
sound like one. Morlox the Warlock. Yes, he must
be one. It just sounded right. And back to
Pewtrewsha—being no mere sand witch, if
Pewtrewsha was a true sorceress, then she
possessed the magical abilities of a hundred
common sand witches in top form! But Hazel was
hardly in top form. A more bedraggled, burnt-out
sand witch than Hazel would be hard to find at this
moment. Hazel knew far better than the others just
how futile was their mission.
Sensing Hazel’s depression, Brownbeard sidled
up to her and said, “C’mon Hazel! Cheer up! This
is going to be fun!”
“No, it’s not, Brownie. This is not going to fun.
It’s going to be the hardest thing you’ve ever
experienced.”
“I have no doubt about that,” said Brownbeard
with a broad smile. “That is why it’s going to be
fun.”
“Oh, Brownie, you poor fool,” said Hazel.
“You have no idea what you have gotten yourself
into. We won’t make it out alive.”
“Oh, I know that,” said Brownbeard. “But we’ll
give Pewtrewsha and Morlox a fight like they’ve
never had before! We’ll free as many of the
children as we can. My new title shall be Captain
Chaos by the time we are through!”
Brownbeard drew his sword and raised it high
before the gang as they slogged along through the
boulder strewn plains of the Land of Longing.
“Do you hear me crew?” shouted Brownbeard
as he marched backwards while inspecting the
parade. “You are now under the command of
Captain Chaos! And you know what Captain
Chaos brings to his unlucky foes, don’t you?”
“Chaos!” everyone cheered except for Hazel
and Kumquat.
“I’m sorry, you’ll have to speak up young
ladies,” said Brownbeard to Hazel and Kumquat.
“Chaos,” said Hazel and Kumquat half-
heartedly.
“How weak and woeful a response is that?”
cried Brownbeard. “What, I ask again, does
Captain Chaos bring to his foes?”
“Chaos!” everyone cheered. Even Hazel and
Kumquat cheered more loudly, if only to bring an
end to Brownbeard’s charade.
“What?” screamed Brownbeard.
“Chaos!” came the response.
“What?” shouted Brownbeard.
“Chaos!” came the response yet again, followed
by a ‘you dolt!’ courtesy of Kumquat.
Brownbeard stopped. So did the parade.
Brownbeard, paper maché eyebrow raised,
regarded Kumquat coolly. Everyone held their
breath. Kumquat gulped silently. Brownbeard
stepped toward the insolent feline. Brownbeard
approached the cat and pointed the tip of his
sword at her nose. Kumquat’s whiskers twitched.
“That’s right, my little kitten,” said Brownbeard
in a menacing whisper. “Chaos!”
Then slowly, getting louder little by little,
Brownbeard began to walk in circles chanting,
“Chaos! Chaos! Chaos!”
The rest of the gang watched in amazement, but
then one by one, all fell into the circle and took up
the chant.
“Chaos! Chaos! Chaos! Chaos!”
Then, Brownbeard headed back on course and
the circle unwound into a straight line, resuming
the march towards the evil abode of Pewtrewsha
and Morlox. As they stepped and stumbled over
the treacherous tundra, Brownbeard pumped his
sword into the air, singing out a song as his crew
chanted in response—
O! Big Brash Brownbeard is Bad and Bold!
Chaos! Chaos! Chaos! Chaos!
Pewtrewsha too, or so I’m told!
Chaos! Chaos! Chaos! Chaos!
But when I get her in my chokehold!
Chaos! Chaos! Chaos! Chaos!
I’ll smush her like a fresh yeast roll!
Chaos! Chaos! Chaos! Chaos!
She picks on children as a bully would!
Chaos! Chaos! Chaos! Chaos!
‘Cause she’s got no heart and she’s no darn
good!
Chaos! Chaos! Chaos! Chaos!
I’m gonna cut her down like dry-rot wood!
Chaos! Chaos! Chaos! Chaos!
‘Cause I’m Captain Chaos and it’s understood!
Chaos! Chaos! Chaos! Chaos!
Now her pal Morlox! There’s a mean snake!
Chaos! Chaos! Chaos! Chaos!
He sits on his duff and fills his mouth with cake!
Chaos! Chaos! Chaos! Chaos!
Vulderburp and Grobrom! Make sure they’re
awake!
Chaos! Chaos! Chaos! Chaos!
Gonna feed them dinner—Mmmm! Morlox
steak!
Chaos! Chaos! Chaos! Chaos!
Yes! I’m on a mission! Gonna free the slaves!
Chaos! Chaos! Chaos! Chaos!
Gonna wrestle down the baddies who don’t
behave!
Chaos! Chaos! Chaos! Chaos!
So if you’re with me, stand up and wave!
Chaos! Chaos! Chaos! Chaos!
Otherwise fool, best get out of the way!
Chaos! Chaos! Chaos! Chaos!
And so the party, spirits much uplifted,
marched and marched until night fell. In the
distance, following very quietly, were their
uninvited companions—the Dark Duo—the Black-
clad Bipeds—you know—the red-eyed skeleton
folk. Not wishing to be found out, the two made
sure to keep out of earshot from Brownbeard and
his gang. But skeletons, as you probably know,
have exceptional hearing. As they walked, it was
very hard for one of the two to avoid the catchy
pulse that the For Sale gang was bleating out. The
one skeleton bobbed its head up and down to the
rhythm and swung its arms as it snapped its bony
fingers in time. To this, the other skeleton shot an
angry glance towards its dancy-prancy partner as
if to say, “Quiet!” But as the swinging skeleton
thought that they were quite far enough away to
escape the detection of the For Sale gang, it
answered the other with a look that said, “Either
lighten up or mind your own business!” Do you
think these skeletons were husband and wife?
head.
“You mean about Felix and what happened to
him?” asked Wilbert.
“No,” answered Kumquat, “I mean that the hull
of the For Sale is wedged so tightly in those rocks
that not even Hazel’s best magic can lift her out. It’
s probably two weeks of hard hiking to get to this
fortress Felix is talking about. In the For Sale, we
could have been there in an hour or so.”
“Oh,” said Wilbert.
“I’m sorry Felix,” said Kumquat, “I don’t mean
to say that what has happened to you is not—”
“Don’t worry Kumquat,” said Felix. “I know
what you mean. It is going to be a tough hike to
Pewtrewsha’s fortress.”
Felix, Kumquat, Wilbert and Schmoor stood on
the rocky shore as they watched the high tide
begin to recede. From where they stood, the For
Sale looked to be in plenty of water. But by the
time low tide would arrive, the full story of their
predicament would be made clear. Before dawn, a
second freakish storm had come up and pulled the
ship off the beach. The For Sale was now trapped
between two huge dragon’s teeth of rock like a
popcorn kernel between a rug rat’s chompers.
“Let’s give it another try!” shouted Brownbeard
from the ship’s bow. “I’ll go down to the engine
room and open the carburetor on the ship’s
vertical thrusters. When you hear the engine’s
whine, you kick in with your antigravity ray and
maybe we’ll get her out!”
The object of Brownbeard’s directive was
standing waist high in the water with a look of
defeat upon her face.
“Brownie,” Hazel shouted back. “First of all,
the vertical thrust engines don’t have a carburetor!
They are fuel injected. Secondly, we’ve tried this
a hundred times now and we haven’t gotten
anywhere! I’m exhausted. Each time I try to
generate an antigravity ray it’s like running a ten-
kilometer road race! Enough already.”
“What’s a kilometer?” asked Brownbeard.
“Never mind,” said Hazel, “Let’s just take a
break and then begin to get ready for our mission.”
“As captain of the For Sale, I say we give it
one more try!” said Brownbeard.
Hazel glared at Brownbeard.
“Excuse me?” she said hotly.
“Please,” said Brownbeard.
“Brownie, what are you—why are—never
mind. Whatever. Okay. Fine.”
“All right, here I go,” said Brownbeard as he
disappeared below deck.
“This will never work,” said Kumquat. “We’re
just wasting time.”
“Don’t be so negative,” said Wilbert.
“I’ll be negative if I want to be,” shot Kumquat.
“Well, I just thought you might want to try
something different for a change. I guess I was
wrong,” said Wilbert.
“Are they always like this?” Felix asked
Schmoor.
Schmoor shrugged apologetically. Then, with a
twinkle in his eye, Schmoor reached into his
pockets and pulled out a mismatched pair of dirty
old socks. Kumquat and Wilbert shouted back and
forth, neither listening to what the other was
saying. Schmoor quickly and expertly shoved a
sock into the wide open mouths of Kumquat and
Wilbert. Felix laughed. Kumquat and Wilbert
were silenced not only by the socks, the toes of
which protruded slightly from their mouths, but
also from the shock. Neither Kumquat nor Wilbert
would have ever predicted that Schmoor would
part with a sock, let alone two!
The vertical thrusters on the For Sale began to
whine as Brownbeard raced their engines. Hazel
moved her arms rhythmically as she tried to
generate an antigravity force field and concentrate
it in the palms of her hands. She chanted in synch
with the ocean waves and two areas of pale blue
luminescence appeared in her palms. Then, from
the tips of her fingers, two rays of energy shot
forth and hit the For Sale just above the water line.
The ship began to vibrate. The engines whined
in protest to Brownbeard’s urging. Hazel
maintained the beam intensity with all her might.
Slowly, very slowly, the For Sale began to rise
from the water and rocks. A wretched scraping
sound could be heard as the rocks tried their best
to hold to the hull of the ship.
Kumquat spat the sock out of her mouth and
said, “Son-of-a-gun!”
Wilbert slowly removed the sock from his
mouth and said, “I don’t believe it!”
Felix and Schmoor watched with amazement as
the For Sale climbed from out of the grip of the
dragon’s teeth.
“Okay, just gently back her into deep water,”
whispered Kumquat.
Hazel’s entire body trembled with the effort.
She was really getting very little assistance from
the For Sale’s vertical thrusters. When the power
of the engines ebbed just a bit, it was too much for
Hazel’s strength. She collapsed into the water, her
body twitching and trembling. The For Sale
crashed back down into the wedge of rock and the
sickening sound of crunching timbers could be
heard.
“Oh! That’s not good!” shouted Wilbert. “Come
on! We’ll need to get our stuff out of the For Sale!
She’s probably taking on water right now!”
“Hazel! Hazel! Are you okay!” shouted
Kumquat as she raced to check on her mistress.
Felix and Schmoor followed. There would be
no quick and easy trip to the fortress of
Pewtrewsha. The For Sale was now a wreck best
fit for salvage.
* * *
Everything on the bottom level of the For Sale
had to be relocated somewhere above, as the
lower floor was completely flooded. Hazel had
outfitted the ship for almost all disasters that
might be encountered during air, space or sea
travel. But the pumps below could not handle the
massive amount of water the For Sale was now
taking on. The crew packed as much food and
water as they could comfortably carry. Felix
would be able to show them what plants, mosses,
lichens and fungi were edible. Kumquat cleaned
and fed her pets. Hazel put a spell on the cages so
that they’d remain clean for a month’s time. After
a month, if they had not returned, the cages would
open and the animals would be free to leave.
“But they’ll never survive here!” cried
Kumquat. “They’re not accustomed to this cold
climate!”
“I know, sweetie,” said Hazel. “They’re only
hope is for us to make it back in a month’s time.
They’ll be safe in the cages until then.”
“Can’t we bring them along?” pleaded Kumquat.
“Yes, please,” said Wilbert. “I’ll get tired of
eating plants for who knows how long.”
“No, Kumquat,” said Hazel firmly. “We can’t
take your pets with us and you know that.”
“Then can’t you make your spell for two
months rather than one?” cried Kumquat. “If it
takes us two weeks to get there and two weeks
back, and we don’t know how long we’ll be
fighting with Pewtrewsha to free the children, then
how can a month be long enough?”
“Kumquat! I can’t tie my magic up in a cage-
cleaning spell for two months! I’m being quite
frivolous with a one month spell! Now cut it,”
ordered Hazel.
Kumquat turned away with a tear in her eye.
Hazel was right and she knew it. But Hazel felt
bad and without telling her cat what she was
doing, added two more weeks to the spell.
“All righty!” said a strangely cheerful
Brownbeard. “Let’s head ‘em up and move ‘em
out!”
* * *
It seems Brownbeard had come to terms with
the fact that the next few weeks were to be his
last. He did not think for a minute that this small
rag-tag army of six would be any match for a
sorceress and her army, but that was not really the
point he decided. The victory would be in the
journey he told himself. His heart was where it
belonged. He was living for something larger than
himself. And that, he thought, was a good note to
end on.
Now, Wilbert and Schmoor were of cheerful
disposition as well, but then neither doubted the
inevitability of their victory. Never while working
with Hazel had they ever faced doom. Always, no
matter how critical the situation, always they had
snatched victory from the jaws of defeat. Well, if
not victory, they always came out of any
predicament relatively unscathed.
Felix was cheerful as well, but not because he
thought they would have any success on this
fools’ mission. Rather, his smile was because
after years of loneliness and sadness, once again
he was around people who seemed to care about
him. That was more than enough for him. Thus,
although returning to Pewtrewsha’s fortress filled
him with an apprehension which teetered on the
brink of dread, still the comfort of real
companionship and the opportunity to fight back
propelled this brave lad on. Only Hazel and
Kumquat were of ill-temperament as the party
began its journey inland. Of course, Kumquat was
probably upset simply due to the argument with
Hazel over her pets. But Hazel had other thoughts
weighing on her mind. Hazel knew better than the
others just how powerful a sorceress could be.
And what about Pewtrewsha’s consort Morlox?
Was he a warlock? His name sure made him
sound like one. Morlox the Warlock. Yes, he must
be one. It just sounded right. And back to
Pewtrewsha—being no mere sand witch, if
Pewtrewsha was a true sorceress, then she
possessed the magical abilities of a hundred
common sand witches in top form! But Hazel was
hardly in top form. A more bedraggled, burnt-out
sand witch than Hazel would be hard to find at this
moment. Hazel knew far better than the others just
how futile was their mission.
Sensing Hazel’s depression, Brownbeard sidled
up to her and said, “C’mon Hazel! Cheer up! This
is going to be fun!”
“No, it’s not, Brownie. This is not going to fun.
It’s going to be the hardest thing you’ve ever
experienced.”
“I have no doubt about that,” said Brownbeard
with a broad smile. “That is why it’s going to be
fun.”
“Oh, Brownie, you poor fool,” said Hazel.
“You have no idea what you have gotten yourself
into. We won’t make it out alive.”
“Oh, I know that,” said Brownbeard. “But we’ll
give Pewtrewsha and Morlox a fight like they’ve
never had before! We’ll free as many of the
children as we can. My new title shall be Captain
Chaos by the time we are through!”
Brownbeard drew his sword and raised it high
before the gang as they slogged along through the
boulder strewn plains of the Land of Longing.
“Do you hear me crew?” shouted Brownbeard
as he marched backwards while inspecting the
parade. “You are now under the command of
Captain Chaos! And you know what Captain
Chaos brings to his unlucky foes, don’t you?”
“Chaos!” everyone cheered except for Hazel
and Kumquat.
“I’m sorry, you’ll have to speak up young
ladies,” said Brownbeard to Hazel and Kumquat.
“Chaos,” said Hazel and Kumquat half-
heartedly.
“How weak and woeful a response is that?”
cried Brownbeard. “What, I ask again, does
Captain Chaos bring to his foes?”
“Chaos!” everyone cheered. Even Hazel and
Kumquat cheered more loudly, if only to bring an
end to Brownbeard’s charade.
“What?” screamed Brownbeard.
“Chaos!” came the response.
“What?” shouted Brownbeard.
“Chaos!” came the response yet again, followed
by a ‘you dolt!’ courtesy of Kumquat.
Brownbeard stopped. So did the parade.
Brownbeard, paper maché eyebrow raised,
regarded Kumquat coolly. Everyone held their
breath. Kumquat gulped silently. Brownbeard
stepped toward the insolent feline. Brownbeard
approached the cat and pointed the tip of his
sword at her nose. Kumquat’s whiskers twitched.
“That’s right, my little kitten,” said Brownbeard
in a menacing whisper. “Chaos!”
Then slowly, getting louder little by little,
Brownbeard began to walk in circles chanting,
“Chaos! Chaos! Chaos!”
The rest of the gang watched in amazement, but
then one by one, all fell into the circle and took up
the chant.
“Chaos! Chaos! Chaos! Chaos!”
Then, Brownbeard headed back on course and
the circle unwound into a straight line, resuming
the march towards the evil abode of Pewtrewsha
and Morlox. As they stepped and stumbled over
the treacherous tundra, Brownbeard pumped his
sword into the air, singing out a song as his crew
chanted in response—
O! Big Brash Brownbeard is Bad and Bold!
Chaos! Chaos! Chaos! Chaos!
Pewtrewsha too, or so I’m told!
Chaos! Chaos! Chaos! Chaos!
But when I get her in my chokehold!
Chaos! Chaos! Chaos! Chaos!
I’ll smush her like a fresh yeast roll!
Chaos! Chaos! Chaos! Chaos!
She picks on children as a bully would!
Chaos! Chaos! Chaos! Chaos!
‘Cause she’s got no heart and she’s no darn
good!
Chaos! Chaos! Chaos! Chaos!
I’m gonna cut her down like dry-rot wood!
Chaos! Chaos! Chaos! Chaos!
‘Cause I’m Captain Chaos and it’s understood!
Chaos! Chaos! Chaos! Chaos!
Now her pal Morlox! There’s a mean snake!
Chaos! Chaos! Chaos! Chaos!
He sits on his duff and fills his mouth with cake!
Chaos! Chaos! Chaos! Chaos!
Vulderburp and Grobrom! Make sure they’re
awake!
Chaos! Chaos! Chaos! Chaos!
Gonna feed them dinner—Mmmm! Morlox
steak!
Chaos! Chaos! Chaos! Chaos!
Yes! I’m on a mission! Gonna free the slaves!
Chaos! Chaos! Chaos! Chaos!
Gonna wrestle down the baddies who don’t
behave!
Chaos! Chaos! Chaos! Chaos!
So if you’re with me, stand up and wave!
Chaos! Chaos! Chaos! Chaos!
Otherwise fool, best get out of the way!
Chaos! Chaos! Chaos! Chaos!
And so the party, spirits much uplifted,
marched and marched until night fell. In the
distance, following very quietly, were their
uninvited companions—the Dark Duo—the Black-
clad Bipeds—you know—the red-eyed skeleton
folk. Not wishing to be found out, the two made
sure to keep out of earshot from Brownbeard and
his gang. But skeletons, as you probably know,
have exceptional hearing. As they walked, it was
very hard for one of the two to avoid the catchy
pulse that the For Sale gang was bleating out. The
one skeleton bobbed its head up and down to the
rhythm and swung its arms as it snapped its bony
fingers in time. To this, the other skeleton shot an
angry glance towards its dancy-prancy partner as
if to say, “Quiet!” But as the swinging skeleton
thought that they were quite far enough away to
escape the detection of the For Sale gang, it
answered the other with a look that said, “Either
lighten up or mind your own business!” Do you
think these skeletons were husband and wife?
The Adventures of Short Stubbly Brownbeard
Alan J. Levine
* * *
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Buy yer hard copy
at . . .
at . . .
Want to support
children's literature?
That's great! But
instead, why don't you
go to the followin'
links to buy yer own
miserable copy of
Brownbeard and
support Pirates
Anonymous? We've
been assisting pirates
with mental health and
hygiene issues since
1633. Brownbeard is
also available to
schools and libraries
through wholesalers
like Follett, Ingram,
and Baker & Taylor.
children's literature?
That's great! But
instead, why don't you
go to the followin'
links to buy yer own
miserable copy of
Brownbeard and
support Pirates
Anonymous? We've
been assisting pirates
with mental health and
hygiene issues since
1633. Brownbeard is
also available to
schools and libraries
through wholesalers
like Follett, Ingram,
and Baker & Taylor.
