[i]“ This is Wal-Industry Patented Public Address Intercom Sector 24 - Alpha - 90, here to tell you how to always have a happy stay with low prices! To all our dear customers, we at Wal-Industries are also pleased to announce a new line of promotions for our summer sale. Earn your chance for a 75% discount on our Water-Sports department and a free trip to the Walton Autobiographical Museum with every purchase of a Wal-Pachinko ticket. The next song on our trademark playlist is the classical ‘ Smiley and You’ by Wal-Music, guaranteed by our medical professionals to boost both your purchasing frequency and dopamine levels by 15%. [/i] And remember - BBRRTTSZKJDTTTTT” Scat turned the plastic, cheery tone of the Piaee Drone into electric gurgling with a nonchalant thwack of his frisbee-rang. The Piaee’s was sputtering, its eth-powered motors clipped and trailing smoke, crash landing near the eclectic group of Lifters that had assembled on the dock. Poor thing. He had to go put it out of his misery. He shoved two fingers into his mouth and whistled for Paw to follow him.Stomping down the stairs with the grace of a dire-pidgeon, Scat’s eyes were dead-set on finishing off his prey, not paying any attention to the other Lifters. Laying on the ground, the Piaee sputtered out more nonsense about ‘coupons’ and ‘stock growth’ that Scat couldn’t comprehend. A squish from his corgi-leather boots silenced it. He picked up its silvery gray corpse, picking through its innards to see if there was anything edible. Nothing. He tossed it over the deck into the waters of the Spillway before regarding the Lifters before him. “ Sorry. Metal parrot was too loud. Owner taught him bad tricks.” He raised back his leather jerkin boots, wiping off grease and battery fluid off with his black ridden palms. “ Name is Scat of Tribe Mannapro. I is Pet-Master. How you today? I - PAW!” Paw had begun nibbling at the apparel of each Lifter that was standing nearby, taking chunks out of the dorf’s boots and bites of the penja’s clothing like lettuce. Scats hurriedly crouched down and forced Paw’s jaw open, pulling wads of saliva-coated fabric out while reprimanding his Pet. “ Bad Paw. Naughty Paw. No eating clothes! “ Scats dug his hand around into Paw’s cheek.” Bad for your health.” Paw gave him the stink-eye. The Pet-Master shot an apologetic look at the Lifters around him. “ Sorry. Paw hungry most of time. Spillway only living with dire-crabs and seamon-“ A sudden rumble followed by the sound of splintering wood made Scat tense up like a statue. Perhaps, it was just sea-sickness playing with his mind. He looked to his side and saw Paw chittering anxiously. No, it wasn’t. A frothing tide of pink foam grew on the left side of the turtle-fish, coating it in a sickly aroma that smelled of baby lotion. Cleaners and sailors dashed around them in a frenzy as orders were barked out rapidly. Slowly, the ship began to tilt to its left, barrels of cargo tumbling down and sleeping sailors dropping out of their hammocks. Scat struggled to stay on his two feet, Paw biting his collar to keep him from falling overboard. Out of the corner of his eye, in the misty air-conditioned fog that permeated the Spillway, another turtle-fish emerged. [hr] “ Raise the sails! Pull up the anchor! I want all men on decks to start bailing water as soon as possible!” Tidepod, second helmsman of the S.S Detergent flinched as his Captain’s spittle-infused commands nearly burst his eardrum. Unlike most ordinary Captains who led their crews with ramshackle inefficiency, Captain Munch was the only one in Tidepod’s experience as a Cleaner sailor to value discipline and his tools for enforcing it was a diaphragm built like a sauce bottle and a mouth full of disgusting swears that not even the holy Kleenex could purge. So, bouts of loud shouting on the deck of the Detergent were a daily occurrence. However, whatever was happening right now wasn’t a daily occurrence. The bridge was pure chaos as the ‘Tronic LED screen flashed damage reports across a blueprint layout of the Detergent. Shoppers operated by buying habits. Everyone. Tidepod had made use of that fact throughout his lifetime and Captain Munch of the S.S Detergent would not be an exception to that rule today. He learned from experience to learn what emotions the captain was undergoing by whatever drink he had on hand. When Captain Munch of the Cereai Naval Boxes was happy, he would usually drink a bottle of Kewlaid. When Captain Munch of the Cereai Naval Boxes was unhappy, most sailors would find him with a bottle of Schnapps by his chair. Right now, he was favouring a Diet Coke. Translation: extremely angry. Captain Munch’s blue tricorn hat was a beacon that united the crew together, as he continued to bark out orders. Tidepod noticed that the veteran sailor’s hand was shaking on his personalised gold-encrusted candy cane. “Helmsman Tidepod, damage report!” Captain Munch shouted. “ A hull breach on our portside, sir!” Tidepod replied back. “ Looks like a bath bomb. I’ll send men down there to seal the leak as soon as possible!” He looked back. The Captain was pacing back and forth, muttering to himself before pointing his cane towards him. “ Make that Tron go down with them as well. And start arming the starboard toliet paper pults. I fear his may be part of a larger - “ A lookout panicked yell caught his attention. “Captain! Ship on our twelve!” He pulled up a periscope to look closer at the ship. “ What flags they be flying, my boy?” “ Oh god, “ The lookout’s face paled. “ it’s the Mis-” He paused as the side of the pirate vessel flashed yellow, sound issuing a second later. Eyes widening, Tidepod realised too late as the glass shattered and his world became acrid smoke and pain. The bleach devoured him, sloughing off his flesh. His lungs were shredded apart in the toxic smog, blood pouring out of his gums as the bridge crew around him suffered the same fate. Bleach. Death was finally granted to him as the bridge toppled off the tilting Detergent, delivering his body into the embrace of the churning Spillway. [hr] [center][@AmpharosBoy][@ClocktowerEchos][@Moskau Spieluhr][@ReveTheDreamer][@Mercenary Lord][/center] It was a miracle that the S.S Detergent was still standing at this point. The bath bomb corroded away at the portside, reducing the toilet-pults and its only line of defence to sludge. Crates of groceries, barrels of Pharma-Spice, even a plunger-ballistae slid and slipped across the shifting deck.The opposing pirate vessel, flag beared for all to see with a muscular arm gripping a spray bottle, was moving in at a steady pace for the kill, smelling fish food in the water. Scats found purchase onto the mast, hanging on as the Detergent began to sail uncontrollably in an arc straight into a jutting wreck of a massive cracked glass tank. He held on as the frame of the Detergent bent and buckled, slowing to a halt. That had stopped the sinking, but they were still in the middle of the Spillway with no land in sight. The boat of pirates was close enough now that Scats could see their faces leering and taunting them, brandishing NERF foam cutlasses and matchbox muskets. A helmsman yelled down from the smoking remnants of the bridge. “ All right, listen, you no good bunch’ a closing down shoppers. Captain Munch is dead. It’s time to do yer job and guard deh thing that’s gonna keep ya loaded in muuneh for seasons to come. Now, I can’t guarantee you’ll get a bonus on your contracts but if you don’t do what I say, we’ll end up in Captain Crunch’s locker.” “ Tron, we need you to go into the Hold to secure the package. It’s been locked in a Tronic safe for its own protection but it’s gonna go down with this ship if we don’t get it out. ” The Cleaner tossed a roll of blue towel towards the denizen of the Electronics Department. “ Take the Sham-Wow. You’ll need it. The Pet-Master and the Clothing shopper can go with you for your own protection.” “ The rest of us need to defend the ship while they help pump up the lifeboats.” The helmsman pointed over his shoulder where a couple of sailors were busily pumping air into slowly expanding giant rubber duck inflatable floaties. “ Hopefully, we can get out before they board - “ The entire ship fell silent as a five-clawed hand the size of a salt shaker sprouted from the middle of the floorboards. Then, another one appeared. Then, there was the other. In several heartbeats, a horde of miniscule sized mutants had filled the deck. The smallest were the size of Nike shoes while the biggest reminded Scat of an inbred Nevergrow. The similarities between the creatures and the crew begun and ended at the amount of limbs they both had along with the general shape that everyone associated humans with. Their webbed hands and feet were just the least most disturbing aspect of them. A single bulbous, pupiless eyes stared blankly towards them whilst mandibles clicked and chirped hungrily, a barbed tongue rolling out of its distended mouth that reached from its chin to its chest. Glittering furred chitin plates in the hues of the famed Skittles covered bags of mucous skin that sagged like an over-sized shirt on their wiry skeletons. Paw began huddling against the side of Scat's legs, fur shaking not in fear but in anticipation of what was to come. They were everywhere. Crouching on the mast. Prowling the deck. Hanging with their barbed tails by the railing. Standing on two legs by the overturned scattered piles of cargo. Watching. Waiting. Licking. Drooling. Then, the Sea-Monkeys leaped to feast, snarling and biting rabidly. “ Blasted Sea-Monkeys!” The helmsman cursed, entangled with several Sea-Monkeys before shouting towards Blue, Havalock and Scats. “ The three of you! Go now!”