I AM THE CAPTAIN OF YOUR SHIP

 

Originally Published in CITY-ZINE: Issue 16, May 2012

 

I AM THE CAPTAIN OF YOUR SHIP…

 

-A REAL QUANDARY, Shouts the captain in perpendicular motion, fingers raised toward the setting sun- if it were fully dark we’d see the Milky-Way!

-Ahoy, agreed, hurrah! Exhaled the troops in unison. The battered fiesta was working out fantastically. They were driving down a tight country-lane approaching a small Cornish village.

-TEAR THE FUCKER UP CAPTAIN! Roared an excitedly ‘tripping-off-his-tits’ Private Howard Jetson from the passenger seat next to him –FUCK THE CORNISH BOYZ- WE RULE!! -WOO-HOO!!

Mushrooms had been a major part of the agenda, it had been a perfect clear summer’s day; the evening sky was now red- a real mystified Sheppard’s delight. There was a tension in the air, an ambiguous feeling of omnipotence and adversity concerning the next twenty-four hours. Worse still- that old foe panic was on the horizon, the captain could sense him; he knew this predator well. He listened out for sounds of serpent’s hissing- forgetting the road and nearly smashing straight into a fence. His vision was impairing itself rapidly. The troops giggled girlishly as he sailed forth- his engine wailing disharmoniously in over-revved agony. The Captain could see sharks swimming in the next field; he skidded around the corner; dry dust penetrated the gaps in the electric windows. Private Howard Jetson pulled his sunglasses down over his eyes; now seemed like the perfect time to use them. This issue with the Jaws impersonators in the next field perplexed the Captain greatly- why would they do that?

-This is the first time I’ve driven this ship and I’ll be damned If I’m going down without a fight!

The Captain had turned red as sweat saturated his brow; he screamed in a manner that made him almost wretch with sheer unadulterated aggression, his eyes were monstrous forming a blank glaze:

-NO DAMNED LAND SHARK WILL GET THE BETTER OF ME- WHO DO THESE JAWS IMPERSONATORS THINK THEY ARE?

The troops exchanged bemused looks, but looks would achieve nothing. The Captain was now ferocious and full of rapture as he slipped from second straight into forth and burst through the oncoming fence and into the field. He wretched further into rage:

-FUCKING BASTARDS! YOU’RE NOT TAKING ME!!! NEVER!!! THIS IS OUR LAND ALSO!!

The captain suddenly ground the car to a halt, turning off the engine but leaving the ignition on, the radio blastingTell Me Lies by Fleetwood Mac, this seemed to annoy the captain as he violently reached for the power button. Off.Silence.

The lieutenant was seated in the back alongside Tea-boy Stackson- they’d been relaxing, seemingly inattentive, taking in the drama, attempting to comprehend the complexity of the situation that was fast approaching the mind of their Captain. They could sense the cogs of insanity churning away- They’d been here before, the Captain’soccasional lapses of drug psychosis from years of speed and smack abuse-Bla-bla-bla…

This would form the basis of his excuse in the morning. Nonetheless, his bad trips were a joyful prospect of entertainment for their observerous eyes.

The Captain placed the nub of a roll up to his mouth. He sparked-up and exhaled the smoke, as if forgetting that he hadn’t inhaled it. His blue eyes rolled deep into the back of his head, although he was turned toward Jetson as though making eye contact, but the Captain seemed incapable of achieving such a task. He spoke but this time surprisingly more calm and dignified:

-Listen platoon, I’ve been thinking and it’s sure as hell a lot more likely that those land-sharks are rhinoceros’ rather than Jaws replica’s, but still, we must be careful.

The lieutenant rolled his eyes and head-butted his palm- he knew not whether to laugh or cry, so instead he spoke up from behind:

-For fuck sake captain we aren’t in Hollywood that shit would cost thousands to replicate, and there’s no water man, -You’re handling this all wrong-I demand you- to let me take the wheel sir, you are currently not of sound mind -I know just how to handle these rhinos -I saw it once on Stevie Irwin.

He winked at Stackson hopeful that these words would enable his movement into the front of the Fiesta.

The captain instantly appeared agitated, shaking his head in disbelief. The roll-up in the corner of his mouth now soaked with dry, spent saliva- sticking to his bottom lip. As he spoke, his face quivered in a bitter chemical contortion: -Not on water? haa-haa, that the best you got? Not on water? His eyes rolled back further and then darted forwards and peered into the rear-view- mirror addressing the Lieutenant’s squinty brown pupils. His voice then rose in shroomed-up anguish:

-YOU, LIUTENENT!

-Yes, sir, yes su—

-NEVER FUCKING MIND SIR YES SIR- YOU FUCKING HEATHEN- I AM THE CAPTAIN OF THIS VESSEL AND I SHALL NEVER PASS THE WHEEL OVER TO A NOMAD SUCH AS YOUR BAD SELF, YOU FIENDISH FUCK! WE AGREED I AM THE CAPTAIN- I DREW THE LONGEST STRAW AND PISS FROM THE LONGEST COCK! AND YOU- HE WHO SITS DEFEATED; NOT EVEN RIDING SHOTGUN- HAS THE AUDACITY TO DEMAND MY POSITION?

-I HAVE A GOOD MIND TO JUMP FROM THIS SHIP AND HANDLE THESE SHARKS WITH MY BARE HANDS AND POSSIBLY LEGS; I KNOW HOW TO WRESTLE AND HAVE ALSO WATCHED STEVIE IRWIN; I CALL HIM STEVIE BECAUSE I FEEL AS THOUGH I KNEW HIM BETTER THAN YOU DID, HAVING CLEARLY WATCHED HIS SHOW MORE- IT WAS ME WHO GOT YOU INTO HIM YOU BASTARD AND IT’S ME WHO KNOWS HOW TO CAPTURE AN ALIGATOR WITHOUT GETTING BITTEN, ALTHOUGH I AM YET TO TEST THIS- I AM AT ONE WITH NATURE AND I AM THE CAPTAIN OF THIS SHIP AND I DECIDE IF WE ARE SWIMMING OR SINKING! -IF THIS SHIP GOES DOWN; I AM GOING DOWN WITH IT; AS DRIVER, AS LEADER OF MEN AND FIGHTER OF SHARKS DO YOU HEAR ME? DO YOU UNDERSTAND LIEUTENANT? AM I MAKING MYSELF PERFECTLY CLEAR?

The atmosphere of the car was breathless and the Captain’s question rhetorical. The silence of the endless, surrounding fields seemed deafening in comparison to that of the vessel.

But this was to be understood; After all, there were land sharks lurking. The captain had turned the ignition to start the engine; he was playing with the window wipers and lights, flicking them off and on, the wipers squeaking slightly whilst the headlights illuminated the grass ahead of them. Dusk began to set further. The captain could feel the ground beneath him rumbling, turbulent tremors from below.

-THESE FUCKING TYRRANTS- THEY ROCK MY BOAT-WHO ARE THESE BEASTS?

The captain ground his teeth together and was now brown-lipped from the tar of his dissolved roll-up. He looked out of the windows, rubbing his hands in anticipation. The lieutenant had his face buried in his knees; he knew the captain was gone, suffering- extremely deluded. Would he return? Only time would tell.

-WHO DO THEY THINK WE FEAR? WE HAVE PROVISIONS- PLENTY OF JUICE IN THE ENGINE! I CAN FUCKING SAIL ALL DAY; RIVERS-ESTUARIES -SEAS- YOU NAME IT!

Private Howard Jetson was finishing skinning up a joint on a CD case in the passenger seat; he noticed the Captain reaching into his combat trousers and producing a knife which he flicked open instantaneously:

-What the fuck are you doing captain?

-I’M GONNA CUT THEM- I’M GONNA CUT THESE FUCKIN BASTERDS, LEND ME THOSE FUCKIN SUNGLASSES MAN- AM GOIN IN, AM FUCKIN GOIN IN!!!!

The captain now spoke in an attempted American tongue; what state he was from, only he knew, it was certainly undecipherable to the insane ear. All of a sudden he ragged the car towards the sharks/rhinos driving directly over one and grinding to a halt; He jumped from the vehicle and ran towards the sharks/rhinos. Private Howard Jetson began to laugh uncontrollably shaking the body of the car whilst coughing on the thick smoke produced by the joint. The lieutenant raised his head from the back to view a sight simply unimaginable- He watched completely miffed, as the Captain repeatedly stabbed and kicked at a bail of hay:

-So they weren’t even rhinos then? Inquired a miffed Lieutenant.

-It appears not, replied an equally as baffled Tea-boy Stackson.

The Captain continued his assault until defeated by his comedown. This would be one voyage the crew would never forget.

 

Copyright © J. Thrasivoulou 2012, steal it and bear the ramifications of your actions.


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