Corkhorn was lucky Captain Cluck-vers was such a big wine drinker. Her Captain’s quarters was more lavish than the rest of the ship. A desk, a bed, a dresser, and foot space. This room was meant for meetings Corkhorn guessed. The built-in table couldn’t get torn out. The burn marks reflected Captain Cluck-vers tried.
Ottero sprinted out of the Captain’s quarters. He held wine high in the air. Everyone in the Galley partied hardy.
“HOO-RAH!” Ottero cheered, “To the man who torched that sunnuva cluck!”
“Hooray!” roared the Pirates.
Everything went to chaos after that. Animals swung from the ceiling. Happy drunks sang sea shanties while waving half empty bottles. What the Fudge drunks swung from the ceiling. Angry drunks challenged inanimate objects to fights. Kissy drunks ran around hugging random strangers.
Corkhorn froze from coils tugging him to Roger’s face.
“I love you man,” Roger slurred. His face contorted into duck face lips, “Mwah, mwah, mwah.”
“Who-o-oa, down,” Corkhorn begged, “Down boy. Down.”
Dr. AIEEE was the bear to shoo Roger away.
“Roger you’re drunk,” Dr. AIEEE pointed out.
“I am?” asked Roger the snake. He blinked owlishly.
“Get off the floor Roger,” exclaimed Quartermaster Patches
Roger looked down. Panic crossed his features. He ascended the railings and joined the what the fudge drunks swinging from the railings.
“I’m DRUUUUNK huh-huh,” Roger laughed.
“DRUNK DRUNK DIDDLY DRUNK WHEEEEEE-HHEEEEE DRUNK AS FUNK!” chorused the other pirates.
Corkhorn got a mug pushed in his grasp and wine sloshed to overflowing. Corkhorn pushed on the new cork on his horn. The cork was still pulsating with pent up magic making it glow white from the inside out. His reason and logic twisted with his empathy for dominance. The only thing that won was confusion.
Corkhorn, still in his spacesuit, had handed his wine over the next pleasant-self-pickled to pass by. Whatever was in that wine smelled like an awfully strong moonshine. Whatever would get a giant snake scarily soused would probably knock a little Unicorn like him flat on his butt.
First things first, never turn your back on your bread and butter, as Corkhorn’s old mentor often told him. The Boba Pearls were safely in one piece much to Corkhorn’s relief. Each package was contained in a specially made tumbler packaging so that no matter what happened to it the package would still survive being sucked in by the Gravity Chute.
“Made to last,” Corkhorn observed and winced, “Unlike some unicorns.”
One of Corkhorn’s ears swiveled to catch gears whirring, feet shuffling of a giant grizzly. Corkhorn’s heart leapt into his throat upon seeing Mr. ZZZ. The initial shock wore off when Dr. AIEEE stood out from behind him. The prosthetic blade switched for a prosthetic paw the size of Corkhorn’s face.
He gulped, be stilled his tittering, when the claws hovered at his throat, palm-pad up, and lowered to the floor. It was Mr. ZZZ who lowered himself to one knee. His beady black eye and large red cyborg eye boring into Corkhorn’s frightened gaze with an intensity reserved for the stoic. It took all of Corkhorn’s willpower to keep his fur from standing on end.
“You are needed in my office,” Mr. ZZZ whispered, slow as rolling thunder, “The Phone Call’s for you.”