Kyle dragged himself up from the sand, vision doubled and skull still vibrating from last night.
On the beach, two over-energized monsters were already in full swing.
"ORA ORA ORA ORA!"
"MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA!"
Roger and Gaban—one swinging a sword, the other a pair of massive axes—were smashing into each other in a completely pointless but spectacularly loud morning spar.
Metal rang. Shockwaves rippled. Their battle cries assaulted Kyle's poor, fragile brain.
"Morning, Kyle!" Roger laughed in the middle of a clash. "Sleep well?"
"Sleep my ass…" Kyle groaned, clutching his head. "You're turning my brain into tofu."
"Kids these days, such poor recovery," Gaban said casually while blocking Roger's slash.
A gentle, blessed smell drifted over.
Coffee.
Rayleigh sat beside the dead campfire, calmly brewing it in a small pot, completely immune to the chaos.
"Here," he said, handing Kyle a cup.
Kyle nearly cried as he took it.
After a few sips, he glanced at their pitiful little ship resting on the shore.
"We need to talk about transportation," he muttered. "If we put one more Gaban-sized life form on that thing, it's going to sink out of spite."
Rayleigh nodded. "It has already completed its duty."
"Hey, don't say that!" Roger protested, slapping the ship affectionately. It groaned in pain. "She's our first companion!"
"A ship's worth lies in its dreams!" Gaban boomed.
Kyle stared at them like they'd just escaped from an asylum.
"Gentlemen," he pointed at the mud-patched holes, the warped mast, and the leaking hull, "its soul is already halfway to the afterlife. And Gaban, with your build and those two battleships you call axes, this thing will split in half the moment you board."
"Kuahahaha! True pirates sail even on planks!" Roger declared.
"I don't want to train that survival skill!" Kyle screamed.
In the end, democracy failed him.
They boarded the doomed vessel.
Every barrel added made the ship sink another inch.
When it was Kyle's turn, he patted the railing gently.
"Old friend… if you must die, please die slowly. Let me grab a plank…"
He stepped on.
CRACK.
The ship tilted violently.
"I TOLD YOU!"
Then water sprayed up through a hole in the deck.
"Roger! You punched another hole!"
Roger calmly jammed a cork into it with his foot.
"Fixed."
Then—
"The sail rope snapped," Rayleigh reported.
The sail collapsed onto Gaban.
"I'M OKAY!"
So Gaban became a human mast.
Then—
Rayleigh held up half a steering handle.
"…The rudder broke."
Silence.
Kyle slowly went pale.
"Oh dear," Rayleigh said.
Roger laughed. "This is fun! Gaban, lend me an axe!"
"Brilliant! We'll steer with it!"
Kyle screamed into the sky.
Roger shoved the axe into the water and paddled.
The ship zig-zagged wildly.
Roger began singing.
Gaban joined.
Rayleigh hummed.
Kyle lay on the deck, staring at the sky.
"I didn't join a pirate ship…" he whispered.
"I joined a floating psychiatric ward."
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