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Skyrates?! - Chapter 51

Published at 6th of May 2022 05:51:30 AM


Chapter 51

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CREEEEAK CREEEEAK

Werthers blinked, his eyes searing in bright skylight. He tried to close his eyes and retreat to darkness, but the opressive suns shone painfully through his eyelids. All the same, his eyelids could do little but weakly slit themselves open. He felt dry, shriveled, bruised and disjointed. Almost like he was floating through the air, like some sort of sickly light sensitive specter.

CREEEAK CREEEAK CREEEEE

“Cluffing hen Ronnie what the cluff if wrong wif youfe? Hafen’t youfe efer ridden one of thefe hamn fings before? Get youfe fome cluffing greafe on thofe chainf before they fnap right off!”

“Maybe they wouldn’t be creaking so much if you didn’t have that goofy ass cigarette holder poking out twenty clucking feet ahead of us! It’s ruining our aerodynamics!”

“Fat doefn’t hafe anyfing to do wif greafing or not greafing the chainf and youfe know it.”

CREEEEAK CREEEEAK

“Oh doesn’t it? With all the wind buffeting from it it we may as add a half-baked god on the airbike! Can’t you tell it’s being strained?”

“More like being ftrained by youfer fat aff,” Pripkin whispered.

CCRCKKCKRKCKKKCKKK

Adrenaline gushed through Werthers’ body as he shuddered with fear at the crackling that nearly numbed his left ear.

fffzzzz “Werthenshire, are you” fzzzz “there? Can you” ffffzzz “hear me sirrah?”

Werthers realized the crackling in his ear was not from the airbike he was strapped to what felt to be the back of. It was some sort of magical earpiece with fairly spotty reception.

“Werhersbergermeister, come” fffzzzz “in, come in,” fffffzzzzz “Werthenhammocklien, come in?”

It was officer seargant Seargeant Officer Jarmish.

“It’s officer” fffffzzzz “nt Seargeant Off” fffffzzz “Jarmish.”

Werthers opened his eyes and, almost screaming from the brightness, soon slammed them shut.

fffzzzz “If you hear” fffzzz “me, say absolutely nothing. If you can’t hear me, let me know.”

CREEEEAK CREEEEAK

Werthers said absolutely nothing.

“Werthenhammer?” fffzzzz “Hello?” fffzzzzzz “Hamn, you really must be there, old” ffffzzzz “chup. Well, what a right” fffzzz “mess we’d be in if it weren’t for your” fffffzzzzzz “craftiness. Feigning passing out so that the enemy would take you” ffffffzzzzz “hostage! Truly you are a” ffffffzzzzzz “boon to us my dear Wormwuldinger and I am” fffffzzzz “quite pleased to say that our mission” ffffzzzzz “is almost complete. However, it is very” fffzzzzzz “important that for this next bit, you know exactly what you must do to a t. After all, one misstep” ffffzzzz “could be absolutely” ffffffzzzzzz “catastrophic for the mission. And your” ffffzzzzz “health. And quite possibly the” fffffzzzzz “world. Well, that was a little” fffffffzzzz “melodramatic. Probably not the” ffffffzzzz “world, but at least a large part of Caldonia. Or, maybe a medium” ffzzz “part of Caldonia. Hen. Okay it’s probably more like a small” ffffzzz “scrap of Caldonia but the sentiment is there and that’s what matters, isn’t it? Say” ffffzzz “nothing if that’s what matters.”

Werthers said nothing.

“Okay, glad to hear we’re on the same page. Or, glad to not hear that we’re on the same page. Heh. Say nothing if we’re on the same page?”

Werthers said nothing.

CREEEEAK CREEEEAK

“Excellent excellent excellent you’ll have” ffffzzzz “to excrete me Werthengiggles you’ll have to” fffffzzzz “excrete me I’ve just I haven’t had many” ffffffzzz “opportunities to speak in code as” ffffzzzz “it were and I am quite enjoying it. Or, should” ffffzzzz “I say, to not speak in code? Hah! Hey, say” fffzzz “nothing if—gotcha! Just” ffffzzzz “kidding! Okay okay anyways the important” fffffffzzzz “information you need is that”

CCRCKKCKRKCKKKCKKK

The sound in Werthers earpiece cut off completely. Then, he blinked open his eyes again, now adjusted to the brightness, and looked around without moving his head. He could see the blue sky and the edge of two bright suns. He could see the thick protective umbrella that Pripkin and Ronaldo were doubtlessly peddleing underneath. He felt the sweat sticking to his skin and wished that that thick protective umbrella had just a little more reach. Then he realized with sorrow and shame that he was stuck in his rubbery ostrich suit, and along with that he was belted with leater straps to the back of the airbike. He was suffering some bad chaffing.

CREEEEAK CREEEEAK

“Fay, what’f fat horrible graoning noife?”

“Maybe Worms has finally woken up.”

“Woken up? Youfe mean he’f not dead?”

“I don’t think so. I mean, I think I felt a pulse while I was hoisting him onto the back of this thing. You really thought he was dead?”

CREEEEAK CREEEEAK

“Why not juft affk him? Fay, Wormy, are youfe dead?”

Werthers said nothing, but he trembled with fear.

“Wormy! Come on now, are youfe dead or not? Don’t leafe me haning! We can’t turn around to look at you fo don’t try any fign language or anyfing juft fffpeak up ya rubbery ftick of lipfftick!”

“Y-yes. I’m a-live.”

“Cluck me he sounds dead as hen!”

CREEEEAK CREEEEAK

“Youfe hear fat, Wormy? Youfe might af well be dead.”

“N-no I’m alive I’m alive.”

“I think he’s going to drop dead any minute. I’m sorry I argued otherwise, boss.”

“If only youfe’d apologife for trying to ftiff me out and take all the cluffing money!”

CREEEEAK CREEEEAK

“Look, business is business.”

“Juft fink. If you knew how to read you probably could’fe eafily caffed that ticket.”

“Boss. Out of line.”

“Out of line? Oh, I’m out of line? Where were youfe when I found youfe youfe cluffing oyftyer? Huh? Hafe youfe forgotten or fomething?”

“I haven’t forgotten, I just—”

CREEEEAK CREEEEAK

“Well lemme remind youfe juft in cafe youn hafe forgotten and juft don’t want to admit it becaufe youfe’re an idiot and are embaraffed by how much of an idiot you are. Youfe were a warlock’s familiar, remember?”

“I remember, boss.”

“Youfe do, do you? A warlock’f familiar. Not a witche’f familiar, may I mind youfe.”

“Yes, I’m well aware it was a warlock and not a witch. But I do not think that I am defined by stereotypes—”

CREEEEAK CREEEEAK

“Do youfe remember the shiny little bootf? The fort forts? Like, really fort forts? Do youfe remember the liederhofen?”

“Boss, I don’t think—”

“Do youfe or do youfe not remember the liederhofen?”

“I remember the liederhosen, boss. I remeber them very well. The boots were called—”

“I don’t give a cluff what the cluffing bootf were called you cluffing—”

“Haferlschuhe!”

“Cluffing hen are youfe commiting genofide or fomething?”

“They were called Haferlschuhe!”

“Youfe’re fuch a cluffing matreff, Ronnie.”

“I’m not a mattress! Take that back.”

“No.”

CREEEEAK CREEEEAK

Werthers felt fartburn gurgling in his throat as tension on the airbike grew, and with it their peddleing became more erratic. The creaks grew louder, soon accompanied by judders and sputters. Long beads of sweat streamed down his face, chest, crotch…agony.

Maybe Werthers had died.

Maybe he was in hen.

Maybe he had been in hen since his skytrain got robbed.

Yes, that was it. He was in hen, or he was in gurgleatory.

This could easily be gurgleatory. It felt like what gurgleatory ought to magic like.

Did that mean eventually he might escape gurgleatory and find his way to roost?

CREEEEAK CREEEEAK





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