“General on the Ship!”

  The bo'sun's whistle thrilled as everyone got off the gunboat, assembling on the huge flat deck of the aircraft carrier. Hundreds of hypersonic fighter jets lined up in nice neat shiny rows, black canopies and bristling with weaponry. Snap knuckled her back, not enjoying the flight no matter how brief it was, but perked up, checking out all the sailors in their hardhats or feathered headdresses, the leather biker gear, some dressed as cops and a scattering of cowboys, so many people they could form a village.

  “Yeah!” a rugged construction worker chuckled. “General – NUISANCE!” Everyone had a good laugh, high fives exchanged all around. “But yeah, just kidding, we have fun in the Navy, don't we boys?”

  “With this ship at my disposal,” Snap whispered, her timbre rising, growing more frantic, more elevated in energy and emotion, “I could RULE THE WORLD!” She stopped, turned to everyone staring at her, and spit. “Yeah, I see the judgment in your eyes, and guess what? It rolls off me like water off a duck's back! You're all just jealous because I have the guts to say out loud what y'all thinking! Just too cowardly to admit it.”

  “So, General,” Doc began as they strolled across the flight deck for the towering bridge rising majestically to the side of the ship. “Might I inquire as to why exactly an army general is in command of a naval vessel? Navy that shorthanded lately? One too many sunk battleships?”

  “Far from it!” General Phil replied boisterously. “On the contrary, we're brimming with lots of intestinal parasites, or as I like to call 'em, able-bodied seamen! Look at them wiggle and squirm! But as it goes, the President got it in his head to try some dang 'cross-pollination' stunt, have generals and admirals put where they ain't supposed tobe, see how they fare!”

  “And how have you fared?” Zeke asked.

  “Horribly! I hate the Navy! I've always hated the Navy! Bunch of wet-willies, limp-wristed LOSERS! Gimme a bunch of Marines to storm the beaches any day of the week, leave these ninny noggins back on the ship where they won't get in the way! Yuck!”

  “General Punxsutawney! I must duly protest!” The aircraft shuddered under the footsteps of the ten-foot tall Amazon in Naval white dress uniform, her long blonde hair tied up in a pair of what could only be described as cinnamon buns covering her ears. No points if you can guess who she instantly reminded everyone of. “You can't have women on a Navy vessel!”

  Everyone stared at her. “Mind running that by me again, Commander Barnacle?”

  “It's the unspoken law of the sea, the curse of the sea witch!” she histrionically hissed. “Women on a sailing vessel invites untold hazards! Kraken and super-intelligent dolphins! Typhoons and hurricanes! Since time immemorial, women have been barred from sailing for the sea is a jealous mistress who will not tolerate another woman stealing her men! And here you have not one, not two, but three, four, five, six, seven, eight, NINE women! Bad enough we have to play babysitter to the President's watchdog, but then all this rabble? We're doomed!”

  Abigail's eyebrows arched up. “'Watchdog'? Honestly, some of the terms that get bandied about, I'd prefer just being called a bitch.”

  Hippie leaned into her personal space, wry smile on her freckled face. “I can accommodate you.”

  There was a long silence, a weird silence, a foreboding silence. “Uh, beggin' your pardon, Commander,” the General replied, “but ain't YOU a gosh darn female?”

  “There are always exceptions to the rule,” Commander Barnacle replied sternly. “But always within acceptable boundaries! This? This is madness! MADNESS! I can feel the estrogen already stirring the pot, the sea witch's wrath will be swift, her vengeance fierce! The Battle for Pareidolia City is over. The Battle for Middle-Earth is about to begin.”

  Everyone shuffled about nervously. “Yeah, y'all have fun dying at the hands of a madwoman,” Zeke said. “Me? I gotta make tracks.” He turned to run, Doofus scooping him up over his shoulder and marching him to the bridge, kicking and screaming. “You can't make me! No! I won't! No! AH!”

  Snap wandered off, as Snap was prone to do, but she was not as discreet as she fancied herself to be. Leaning over the edge of the deck, peering at the precarious drop to the island below, she damn near lost her foot as the ship lurched ahead, their adventure officially getting started if you ignore all the rigmarole with the pirates and the destruction and what-not, which she did. “Indianapolis II,” she mused, reading the ship's name emblazoned across the hill. “Awfully slow going for being named after a race car derby.”

  “Careful! You don't wanna-”

  “AAAAAAAH!”

  Manny damn near jumped out of his rich mocha skin, Snap going right over the edge. Instinctively he lurched to the edge, nearly going over himself, trying to at least snag her thagomizer, but it was too late. She was gone. He stood there, mouth wide opening, wondering if he had witnessed for real what he had just witnessed. Cautiously, he peered over the side again, wincing as if in tremendous pain.

  “YOU GOL'DURN SUM'BITCH!” Snap roared, her claws swinging around, almost taking off his foot in its shiny Bruno Magli, so sharp they sank into the metal deck. She scurried back over the edge, raising her four fists, ready to throw down. “You assassin! Who sent you to slay me in my moment of doubt? Of vulnerability?”

  “No! Please! I didn't mean to! It was an accident!”

  “Spare me! An accident would be me tossing your sorry ass off the side! Oh, wait, no, that...that would NOT be an accident, that's the opposite of an accident. Or antonym! I learned that one in school. I'm a walking diction-otomy Who are you anyway, you gorgeous chuck of jalapeno-laced chocolate lava cake?”

  Manny stared at her. “Stumped.”

  “Ouch, what an unfortunate name! But, as my name is 'Snap' I cannot complain.”

  “HEY! What you doing to my girlfriend?” Up marched Samson, hips swaying in a way that conveyed power and authority, but Manny just regarded him with all the warmth reserved for the larva in a Mexican jumping bean. He swelled up, puffing out his chest, muscles bulging, tearing his shirt apart. “Huh! Whatcha think of that?”

  “You realize there's a place somewhere around the right nipple,” Manny said, squinting through one eye, “that if pushed will cause your head to explode?”

  Samson gasped then shrieked, tripping over his hooves and hitting the deck, a loud CLANG echoing across the aircraft carrier.

  “Bo Diddly! Bo Jangles! Bo Derek!” Snap gasped. She rushed to Samson's side, smacking his face. “Splotches! Speak to me! Tell me you're all right!”

  “I will be when ya stop smacking me,” he groaned.

  “Too right.” She hopped off and confronted Manny. “As for YOU – tell me how to make someone's head explode by poking their nipple.” She batted her eyelashes, showing off the big blue puppy dog eyes then proceeded to jab his chest in various places.

  “Will you stop that! There is no such spot. I made it up to terrify him because I know he's a giant goober with no spine.”

  “Ooh, I get it. You used psych-col-a-mol-ogy to rattle his brain. Well that ain't nothing special! I can rattle his brain and I'm a nincompoop. And to think, I was considering marrying you. Guess not anymore!” She snapped her claws and swaggered off, tail bouncing to the rhythm of the beat in her mind.

  “That broad's a Mary Sue, through and through!” Manny scoffed.

  “Oh I don't know about THAT,” Samson mused. “See, a Mary Sue is a fan created character inserted into a previously established intellectual property. Snap is a wholly original character in a wholly original creation! Therefore, she defies the very first article of a Mary Sue definition!”

  If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  “Unless this is a Frankenstein story,” Manny said, “and she was inserted into it.”

  Samson's eyebrows arched up and he slapped his cheeks. “AAAAAAH!”

  “Yeah, messing with this guy's brain is gonna be FUN,” Manny chuckled, swaggering off, not a care in the world now.

  “General on the bridge!” All hands stood at attention as Punxsutawney marched in, responding with a salute of his own, allowing them to resume the critical work of playing 'In the Navy' while looking gay and fabulous.

  “General Nuisance?” Zeke asked. “General Audiences? General Dung Beetle? General Hospital? Luke and Laura forever.”

  An Indian chief and a mustachioed cop in biker shorts rolled in a large, elaborately carved wooden trunk banded about with iron straps, a box of some antiquity, mounted upon a hover-trolley now. “Now this magnificent chest,” the General said, gesturing towards Air's chest then hastily redirecting himself, the unicorn flushing furiously. “Ahem. I mean, THIS magnificent chest,” he pointed to Acinony, earning another harsh glare. “I'm on a roll here. THIS magnificent chest,” he finally pointed at the box brought in, “may contain some clue as to where the McCools are headed next!”

  Snap shuffled up and took a sniff. “Hmm. Interesting texture.”

  “Smells like Teflon and broken dreams,” Hippie murmured.

  “Ah,” Zeke said. “A souvenir from the Reagan Presidency!”

  “Dude, I mean, General Dude,” Snap said. “This ain't no chest. It's a flippin' mimic.”

  “Rich Little?” Zeke asked.

  “Not that kinda mimic, Dad. The kind out of flippin' Donuts and Dingleberries.”

  “You mean 'Dungeons & Dragons'?” Kendra corrected.

  “I know what I said,” she snarled, “and I stand by it 110%!”

  “All right, so, whatever,” Zeke grumbled, shuffling up to the huge chest. “Let's open it. Take a peek, take a gander. Just don't take all the mashed potatoes.”

  “Zeke,” Acinony warned, “be careful.”

  “'Ooh, be careful! Ooh, be careful!'” he whined in a nasally tone, giving his wife a dirty look. “Nag, nag, nag! Bitch, bitch, bitch! Whine, whine, whine! Moan, moan, moan! Jeez, you Lawful babes are always so insufferable.” He kicked the chest and the lip popped open, allowing him to take a peek inside. “All right, mimic for me!”

  “Hey, I'm tellin' ya!” the chest barked at him, its lid flopping up and down like lips, rusty hinges squeaking. “I can't get no respect around here! No respect, none at all! Are ya talkin' ta me? Are YA talkin' ta ME? I'm lookin' around, I don't see nobody else, so ya must be talkin' to me! Here's lookin' at you kid.”

  Snap sniffed. “Huh. Looks like you were right, Dad. My bad!”

  “Of course I was right, I'm always right. All right, you oversized heirloom, what secrets do you hold?” He peered in, only for the lid to slam down shut, slurping him inside like he was a wet noodle.

  “AAAAAAAAH!” everyone, except Hippie, screamed.

  “No! NO!” Acinony screamed, punching and kicking the stubborn trunk. “Let him go! LET HIM GO! Take me instead!”

  “DO YOO REELLY MEEN EET?” the mimic gasped.

  “Oh, wait, no, no, no I don't, not really – EEK!” The trunk's tongue flew out, wrapping around her, yanking her inside, curling her up in the vast inner workings of its labyrinthine stomach alongside Zeke, where they would be slowly digested over a period of a thousand years.

  “That's a SPICY meatball!” the mimic belted out in an exaggerated Italian accent.

  Everyone stood there, quiet and glum a moment. “Well,” Hippie commented. “This sucks. I'm gonna go smoke a joint, anyone care to join me?”

  “Hit me up with some o' dat,” Jessica growled, the two stepping out of the bridge.

  “Up in smoke, baby. Up. In. Smoke.”

  Snap moseyed over to the imitable mimic, rapping her scaly knuckles on the lid. “C'mon, you overzealous excuse for a jewelry box! Let my parents go!”

  “I'm gonna make 'em an offer they can't refuse,” it wheezed, puffing its cheeks out like wattles stuffed with tissue paper.

  “Refuse this, M-F-er!” She punched it right in its rusty keyhole, cracking it wide open, disgorging Zeke and Acinony in a putrid puddle of green slime that had essentially dissolved their clothing, reenacting their birth to the amusement of no one.

  “I've seen things you people wouldn't believe,” the mimic gurgled as various organs, both sundry and weird, bubbled out of its mouth. “All those mammaries lost...like beers down the drain. Time...to die.” It cracked apart at the seams, collapsing into a pile of splinters, metal bands and ungodly horrifying piles of living tissue, the festering stench causing Snap to retch.

  “This is gonna traumatize me for life,” Snap declared.

  “Get over it,” Doc snorted. “You traumatize yourself!”

  She beamed. “Darn tootin'.”

  Hover-gurneys were wheeled in and the Zasperates were summarily wheeled out. “Having tried YOUR way,” Abigail Lawful said, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose with her pinky, “which sucked, literally and figuratively, now we try it MY way, utilizing the power of science. None of this alchemy crap.”

  She whistled sharply and in short order a young boy of about 12 walked up, escorted by a construction worker and a guy in leather and chains. “Has to just about the most inappropriate trio in the existence of inappropriate trios,” Doofus muttered under his breath.

  Uncia perked up, sizing up the kid her age, bristly blonde hair, glasses like Coke bottles, and suspenders hiking up his baggy trousers. “Poindexter! What the H are you doing here, dude?”

  “My job,” he answered simply enough. “Your aunt saw the potential in me as an agent with the Dizzy, so that's Agent Poindexter Dexterpoin to you. Uh, ma'am.”

  “He's not an agent,” Abigail muttered. “Merely an asset, and only until school begins again, then it's all in all just another brick in the wall.”

  “'Dizzy'?” Doofus echoed casually.

  “Dizzy! My head is spinnin'!” Snap sang. “Like a whirlpool it's never endin'! And it's you girl makin' it spin! You're makin' DIZZY!”

  “Shorthand slang for the D.S.I.I.,” Poindexter answered. “The Department of-”

  “Super-Imposed-Igloos?” Snap said. “Sassafras Inspired Ingots? Society Ingrains Incompetence? Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious Incel Ingrams?”

  “Supernatural Intelligence & Investigation.”

  “Yeah. I was gonna say that.”

  “Steely Dan has obtained the necessary data to unlock the secret location of the Seven Seize,” Poindexter explained.

  “I swear to God, it better not be the friends-”

  “We meet along the way,” Abigail finished. “Yes, yes, that joke's been done to death. We're quite certain it's a treasure of some magnificence and not the friends you meet along the way.”

  “I ain't never getting tired of that joke,” Frankenstein chuckled.

  “Are you saying we're not magnificent?” Kendra asked tersely.

  “You have magnificent hair,” Snap said, sticking her face into it, sniffing deeply. “You have a magnificent chest. You can cram so much stuff in your chest. I bet you can stuff thirteen sausages into it-”

  “What are you babbling on about?”

  “Yeah, ahem, sorry, Aunt Crabby, what about this Seven Seize?”

  A huge wall map lowered from the ceiling, a dozen spots lit up along the Pacific Rim. “That where we gonna nuke?” Snap asked.

  “No,” Abigail groaned. “Well, yes, but that's beside the point.”

  “Our attention turns HERE!” General Punxsutawney bellowed, extending his silver pointing rod to the small island situated far from the generally traveled sea lanes, so tiny as to almost be a handful of black pixels in the midst of all the blue. “Booty Island, home of some of the biggest booties in the world!” Everyone howled and whooped it up, hard hats, police hats and feathered headdresses flying everywhere. The General scowled, turning beet red. “I mean TREASURE, you Neanderthals!”

  “Hey, watch it,” Kendra warned. “One of my best friends is a Neanderthal!”

  “Hilarious considering you consider all men to be cavemen,” Snap noted.

  “Hey, he's actually very sweet, so lay off.”

  “So we make a detour to Booty Island,” Doc said. “Sorry, I can't say that with a straight face.”

  “Wait until you learn what's there that we're going to,” Abigail said wryly. “Get your best bikinis on girls – we're visiting the best boob-themed bar & grill in the South Pacific. Tops-O-Poppin'!”

  Snap nodded. “Yanno, when life gives ya lemons, ya make lemonade. When it gives you pumpkins, you motorboat.”

  Kendra glared at her. “That makes no sense and I suddenly remember just who the hell I am talking to.”