by Adam Clark
straight outta compton
The entire crew stood rigid, in a solemn salute, across the length of the deck. Five of the deck hands carried the pine box slowly down the line, while Napalm slowly played a dark dirge on the ship’s organ. Grigor, Illana and the Ty-rap-o-saurus walked at the back of the procession, all dressed in black. Illana wiped away at her tears with a handkerchief.
The hands placed the pine box on the gangplank and slid it forward, until the box was suspended a few hundred feet above the arctic plain. The chill wind whipped across the deck that high up, stinging the tears of each crew member. Illana walked over to the guard rail, mopped away the last few tears and dropped her handkerchief over the side. It danced in the wind, flitting and flapping down into the wintery land below.
“I loved you too,” she whispered into the wind. Just then laser beams shot off into the sky in a 21 gun salute. Grigor put a boot on the edge of the plank and spoke to the box.
“I’ll see you in Valhalla, friend,” he pushed the box off the gangplank. It tipped slowly over the edge, angled downwards, and disappeared out of sight. He stood and waited, a few seconds later a boom echoed out across the plain as the box exploded on the snowy ground.
Grigor turned around, everyone on the deck was looking at him expectantly, so Grigor stared back at them expectantly. This awkward situation pertained until someone at the back of the deck cried “speech!”
“Oh, you want me to speech? I understand now.” Grigor rarely attended funerals. “Um, well Chainsaw-Boy was fine man, of 38 years. I remember the first time I saw him, crawling out of some flaming rubbish all shocked and disorientated. When I saw his chainsaw arms that first time, I knew, he was destined to be my short lived sidekick. He had a clumsy start in the life of a sidekick, he lacked the ability to do any normal human task. But I know that he truly loved those arms, and for him, the sacrifices were worth it.
“I often said to myself as he walked around the ship, struggling to wear clothes and open doors, ‘my god, this man is a total berk, why didn’t I pick someone else?’ But yesterday, he proved his mettle, and showed us all his giant heart. Haha, giant, get it?” The crowd gasped, and Grigor took this as a sign that his jokes were hilarious.
“To be honest, I don’t even try, what can I say, I’m just naturally witty. Anyway, where was I? Oh yes,” he coughed to clear his throat. “Although he struggled with eating and drinking, Chainsaw-Boy’s biggest strength was arm-wrestling. Although he won every match on a forfeit, he will always be remembered as a champion arm-wrestler.”
“Not a giant-slayer?” Chainsaw-boy’s voice called out from behind him, at the end of the gangplank.
“Nope, because I slayed the Giant, if it wasn’t for my amazing throwing skills it would never have happened.” Grigor retorted stubbornly, not turning around. “And seriously, have some respect for the dead, I’m trying to speech here.” He cleared his throat again. “In summation, Chainsaw-boy, the arm wrestling champion, was a so-so kind of guy. Whom only slayed a giant by proxy, that is what we should remember from this.” Grigor bowed his head and waited for the slow clap, it never came.
“Oi, I told you that was a giant thumb wot we put in that box” One dirty pirate said to his neighbour, whose mouth was all agape. Grigor turned slowly and looked at Chainsaw-boy, who was standing smugly, chainsaws folded on the end of the gangplank.
“Is that what I think it is?” Grigor said, pointing to Chainsaw-Boy’s chest.
“Yeah,” came the short reply.
“A… a gold star?” Grigor said, his voice certainly not lacking amazement, “but, where? How?!”
“Nothing major, I just met the ghost of the original Great Wolf, he gave it to me, no biggie.” Chainsaw-boy coolly told him, almost verging on bragging.
“Did he give you that for the whole giant thing yesterday? He knows that it was me who slew it right? That you were just a proxy?!” Desperation gripped his voice, “where is the wolf now?!”
“He disappeared into thin air, it’s a ghost dude, they don’t really exist.” Chainsaw-boy could tell that this was about to get out of hand.
“But I need a gold star” Grigor stropped, accenting his words by flapping his arms with each syllable. A single tear rolled down from his eye, then took the express shortcut via his facial scar into the mess of Grigor’s beard.
Chainsaw-boy walked along the gangplank to him and tried his best consoling voice. “You can have mine if you like?”
Grigor turned away from him and looked down at his feet. “It’s not the same,” he said quietly. Turning away from the gangplank, still looking down, Grigor walked over to Napalm. “Prepare to travel to Lazarus b10” he said quietly, avoiding eye contact. “I’ll be in my quarters,” he then took off and disappeared through a wooden door that led to the interior of the ship.
Chainsaw-boy strode off the gangplank and onto the middle of the deck. “Hey guys, I forgot to mention earlier that I have super healing powers, also, I got the next piece of awesome, yay!” He threw one chainsawed arm into the air, pointing towards the crow’s nest at the top of the mast.
A raucous applause broke out on the ship. Every crew member was laughing and hugging, shouting and whooping. Someone had popped a champagne bottle, sending the cork flying over the deck and spraying the black clad pirates in the alcoholic drink. Another pirate pulled the cloth off a banquet table to reveal twelve plates of party rings, while a second handed out party hats.
Chainsaw-Boy wondered as a conga line shimmied past him, this seems awfully well prepared for a surprise impromptu celebration. But his fears about his social standing within the group were cut short, as were the celebrations.
From deep within the hull of the ship an incredibly loud sobbing could be heard. A collective sigh of pity rolled through the crowd, but they quickly went back to partying. Someone started playing the Spice Girl’s ‘greatest hits’ on the organ to drown out the sound of crying.