POTATO MOON, Part 46: “Cheap Jokes and Cheaper Writing” by Lady Bootstrap

‘Wait!’

A man had appeared. A very manly sort of man. A manly sort of man with a manly coat that flapped out behind him. A manly sort of man with a manly coat that was holding a manly gun. A very large manly gun.

It was the sort of gun, with its size and shape, that would have had made Freud’s monocle pop out in sheer surprise. That is, of course, if the good psychologist had ever really taken to wearing monocles, which he never did. But if he had, and had been there at that moment in time, the monocle would have popped out. Probably. Possibly. Maybe.

The giant pepper pots’ eyestalks swiveled round, only to be greeted by a very broad and very cheesy grin from the very manly man. Their screeches stopped immediately, stymied by this man’s. Bela gasped in a womanly sort of way.

Oh, he did not sparkle like dear Edwood, or have the same chiseled perfection, but she was glad all the same to be rescued. But he would only be rewarded by a chaste kiss on the cheek, though nevertheless it was more than the two penguins would be getting. Bela had very sensitive teeth to the cold.

‘Captain Screwdriver!’ she exclaimed happily.

Stephen Colbert studied his fingernails rather intently, as the author (Or should that be authoress? Yes, this story was not only penned by someone with MPD, but they happen to have many gender confusion issues as well.) happens to be British, and daren’t touch an unfamiliar character with a rusty spoon.
Somewhere, a lonely man with very strange fingers sighed wistfully.

The manly man with the manly gun sighed in a similar sort of way soon after, though the two events were not connected. Or perhaps they were.

‘No,’ he said. ‘It is I! Captain Jacque!’

Bela’s mouth opened. Then shut. Then opened again. Then did a strange sort of half-closing thing that resembled a goldfish. Could it be? The fabled one whom Something had a poster of in her room?

‘Captain Jacque Finch!’

‘Exterminate,’ mumbled one of the pepper pots, which, taking their metallic voices into consideration, was no mean feat. The poor things were feeling ignored.

‘No… I’m no pirate, not unless you want me to be…’ he said, smirking a little, his American accent more pronounced than ever. The manly man ran a manly hand through his hair. ‘Captain Jacque Harness! And I am here, not only to show off my shiny teeth, but to destroy the great evil that plagues these lands!’

And then he shot Bela straight in the stomach.

And then he snogged Stephen Colbert. The man tasted of potato.