by Kell Inkston
Chapter 8: What is The Captain’s Favorite Drink?
The Captain scoffs. “What a simple question! Colette?” he demands, encouraging her to speak.
The other Colette, just a second ago relaxed and victorious, flinches as she thinks. “Uh,” she looks aside. “C-coffee?”
The Captain nods, “That’s right! See? As real as she can b-”
“BUT CAPTAIN, THAT IS NOT OF THE RIGHT,” Boris says.
Both The Captain and the other Colette flinch. The Captain crosses his arms. “Oh? Could it be you’d be so presumptuous as to tell me what my favorite beverage is?”
“CAPTAIN, I AM OF THE KNOWING THAT YOU ARE OF THE LOVING OF MANY OF THE BEVERAGES; BUT I AM ALSO OF THE KNOWING THAT ALL YOU ARE OF THE TALKING ABOUT IS THE SCOTCH OF THE DUGAL’S. YOU ARE OF THE CARRYING OF A FLASK ALL OF THE DAY IN YOUR POCKET OF THE LEFT.” Boris says this as Grancis comes up from behind, her gun full of bullets as she notches into a hidden corner. She doesn’t make herself known, as she wants to make her final judgments without them being alert to her.
The Captain shrugs. “Oh, Boris, you foolish crustacean… thing, you! ”
“NO… I AM OF THE SURE- YOU ARE OF THE GOING OUT OF YOUR WAY TO TELL ME HOW MUCH YOU ARE LOVING OF THE DUGAL’S SCOTCH. YOU MUST BE OF THE FAKE CAPTAIN AS WELL!”
The Captain scoffs. “Boris, pleeease! It just so happens that I changed my favorite drink as of late. If you were really the real Boris, you’d know that!”
Boris clears his throat. “Oh~ I’m the Captain~ My my~ Do I love Dugal’s scotch! Boris, Make sure I’m served scotch at least one meal a day, and it must be Dugal’s! That oaky flavor, those subtle notes, surely this is a drink a captain can enjoy for all his years sailing!~ Don’t you dare be a degenerate, Boris; serve me my Dugal’s!~” Boris said all of this with the most horrifically-accurate mockery of The Captain’s voice ever heard by human ears. Everyone’s frozen in shock.
“M-my,” The Captain says, drawn back. “You’re certainly quite… good at impersonations, aren’t you, Boris?”
Boris gurgles in thought, and then answers. “YOU ARE BOTH OF THE FAKING,” he places Colette back upon his head, and sharpens his crustacean gaze upon the two at the point of the ship. “THE CAPTAIN WOULD NOT BE OF THE SURPRISING THAT I AM GOOD OF THE IMPERSONATING.”
The other Colette presses against the railing of the ship with The Captain. “N-now hey, Boris! You can’t hate us for being a little forgetful! Don’t be hasty with this!”
“NO, I AM OF THE CERTAIN, YOU MUST BE OF THE FAKES, BOTH OF YOU!”
“Absolutely not!” The Captain cries. “Look over there, do you not see Doctor Estradia there? Would an eldritch pull its own victim from the waves? I think not!”
“Oh?” The first Colette coos with a suspicious look to The Captain. “Are you so sure one wouldn’t?”
“Eh, yeah,” The Colette on top of Boris says, “I know for sure you’re not The Captain.” She’s spotted Grancis in the corner, so she knows she’s listening; it’s a stretch, but it’s worth a try.
The Captain focuses his gaze and re-buttons his jacket. “Oh? Why’s that?”
The Colette riding Boris grins, “Because a true captain never appears undressed!” She says.
Grancis, still behind cover, gasps— she’d also read the note left by the true Captain.
The Captain shrugs. “Now, fake Colette, be reasonable. Be honest with yourself, what does that phrase even mea-”