Bromfords of the Kollobita´´rtainnen - Part 23

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"Christmas Card From a Hooker in Bromford"

Hey Charley I'm pregnant
And living on 9-th street
Right above a dirty bookstore
Off Euclid avenue
And I stopped taking dope
And I quit drinking whiskey
And my old man plays the trombone
And works out at the track.

And he says that he loves me
Even though it's not his baby
And he says that he'll raise him up
Like he would his own son
And he gave me a ring
That was worn by his mother
And he takes me out dancin'

Every Saturday nite.


And hey Charley I think about you
Everytime I pass a fillin' station
On account of all the grease
You used to wear in your hair
And I still have that record
Of little Anthony & The Imperials

But someone stole my record player
How do you like that?

Hey Charley I almost went crazy
After Mario got busted
So I went back to Omaha to
Live with my folks
But everyone I used to know

Was either dead or in prison
So I came back to Bromford
This time I think I'm gonna stay.

Hey Charley I think I'm happy
For the first time since my accident
And I wish I had all the money
That we used to spend on dope
I'd buy me a used car lot

And I wouldn't sell any of em
I'd just drive a different car
Every day dependin on how
I feel.


Hey Charley
For Chrissakes
Do you want to know
The truth of it?
I don't have a husband
He don't play the trombone
And I need to borrow money
To pay this lawyer
And Charley, hey
I'll be eligible for parole
Come Valentine's Day.

»London Bridge is falling down. «

I don't understand this whispered curse and who is whispering it. Sideburns? Kylie?

And all of a sudden - I know I am using this phrase a lot - out of the thick black clouds surrounded by lightning and thunder breaks a giant ship with black sails, more than twice as big as the WaveEater. The ship is black all over, masts and sails, hull and everything, with only one exception. Flying on the mainmast there is one single white spot, a white flag with a big and black five-pointed star on it. The ship, Wiker called the Black Star earlier, is turning to us, pointing a battery of umpteen dark cannon barrels at us from openings in the length of the ship.

»Who said the WaveEater was the mightiest ship on all of the seven seas, or even eight seas - including the Kollobita´´rtainnen? « Nigel asks over the roaring thunder. »Over there is one even mightier yet. «

»There is always a bigger ship«, the llama calls back. »Or is it a boat? «

»Let's not go there«, I shout.

The WaveEater is rolling and swaying again from one side to the other, from portside to starboard, in the upcoming storm and the waves coming from the other ship.

»Hammock! « A deep and threatening voice interlayered with a watery gurgling is coming from the Black Star. »Come out and hand over the Amber Heart of the Sea! «

Like a shadow at sunset the pirate ship is getting bigger and approaching, almost soundless.

»Hammock! Your men are awaiting you! «

Mr. Tummy is trembling with fear and excitement.

»There he is«, he is whimpering. »That is Captain Pikpok! «

On the quarter deck near the wheel of the Black Star stands an impressive man. He is the Pirate of all pirates like being ripped off the pages of an adventure tale, a tall and imposing figure, long hair and long bushy beard, wearing a Tricorn hat and an eye patch and holding out a broad saber in his left hand. But one thing makes Mister Pikpok exceptional. The whole man is white from head to toe. And I am not talking about the pinkish white skin of Caucasian people. Captain Pikpok is of a clean and dazzling white, shining bright. White clothes, white boots, a white Tricorn, white skin and long white beard and hair blowing in the wind, and a white eyepatch. Even his one visible eye is white in white so that you cannot distinguish between eyeball and iris. Only his one visible pupil is of a bottomless pitch black and shows you where he is looking or what he is looking at. And oh, that grim determination on his face.

»Hammock, come out! Don't make me count to three! «

And he doesn't have to start counting.

Our Captain Ahabraham Hammock has torn open the door between navigation room and quarter deck of the WaveEater. His shining bald-head is reflecting the flashes of lightning. He is holding the Amber Heart of the Sea on a chain in the fist of his right hand, high above his head.

»You«, he shouts across to the Black Star, »and that demon worm of yours, go back to the hell you ascended from. You will never get this artful piece of craftsmanship, and neither will that blonde witch of Queen Titania. Only over my dead body! «

»As you wish«, Captain Pikpok growls and turns around shouting orders at his crew, »Prepare to board the WaveEater! Throw the grappling hooks! Pull out the planks! Fire the cannons! «

Today is Saturday, the 23rd of December 2023.