Captain is greatest Captain...
of all captains that there ever will be in the Universe from the big bang to the big fold.
Today, Captain, Snippey and Pilot (that's me!) celebrated Boxing day.
After we force-fed Snippy ice-cream to alter his mood-state...
Captain took us to a magical land of SUZERENTE, a place where we could obtain many gifts of interest, box them and stack them to appease the genderless corporate sky-gods.
SUZERENTE is a gob-smacking place with many wondrous wonders.
Snippy didn't appreciate the wonders of SUZERENTE. He didn't hug the cashier robo-greeters as is customary, nor did he help us collect many items of shopping-ness.
It took much convincing to get Snippy to sit on Santa's lap for pictionary purposes.
I drew a montage of Captain and Snippy with my quick art-hand. Captain promised to hang it in a place of recognition for good luck.
I only mildly jelly that Snippy gets to sit with Captain.
Snipster was mildly impressed with my arts.
"Keep it up, who knew a machine could be so artistic! You're starting to grow on me like a bleeding chest wound that refuses to go away." he says to me.
I frown and resist urge to roll Snippy down the escavator-stairs. Snippy needs much more self-satisfaction in self-personality before he can call me "machine".
Have I not feelings?
I draw twenty two frowns on paper-planes and send them to attack Snippy. That'll show him who's a machine.
Captain told me of future and what must be done for it.
In my hand I have now plans for a new flying construct, better than ever.
SUZERENTE offers many things to us for making our dreams happen.
I will fly again.
Snippy left the SUZERENTE. I tried to hold him, but Captain said- "NO. LET HIM GO, HE HAS A PLACE TO BE AND A DOCTOR TO SEE!"
And so I did let Snippy go.
Doctor appointment important, even if very scary.
I wonder if Doctor will cure Snippy of his constant grump-u-lence?
Perhaps not, perhaps yes.
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- Archbishop of Captania and sovereign territories
I was born in the year 1984, in the 4th most polluted city of Soviet Union.
On April 11/1997 fate has given me an unexpected twist and by means of aerial transportation I was dislocated 5555 miles across the Atlantic Ocean to Ontario, Canada, wherein I currently preside in an 1890 cathedral and partake in writing and drawing things.