Monkey Wrench

11:55

-"That’s... that’s it? They just get up and leave? I think I’m about to die, like, twice at least, and they just waltz outta here?" Max brimming with frustration.

-"Yeah, bo-ho, we’re still alive… what a tragedy," Maeve added sarcastically, still trying to fit through. "Little help?"

-"It’s not my problem you're fat. And anyway, they could’ve just killed us. We were easy as fish in a barrel. I mean, you weren’t even in the barrel—you were tied outside, hanging!"

-"First of all, I'm not fat; it's my hips, they're getting stuck! And second, you gonna help or not!?"

-"I'm coming, and it's not the hips, it's the fried fish, trust me."

The ship started rocking more and more as they tried to pull her through.

-"Are you even trying!?" Maeve yelled aggressively.

-"Am I trying? You're the one doing nothing!" he said, pulling on both of her hands.

-"The hell do you want me to do?"

-"WIGGLE!"

-"I AM!"

Loud noises echoed from the deck above.

-"I'm gonna freeze to death on the side of a ship!"

-"You're not. The suit has one of those heater thingies."

-"Oh, great. So I'm gonna lose a leg and bleed to death?"

-"Uh-huh. See my shoulder? No blood. The suit stitches itself up, and the wound the best it can. You're probably gonna melt first from the poison and stuff."

-"Oh, how comforting."

-They grunted, tired and exhausted , Maeve snapped, "There’s no use."

-Max huffed, "I got through!"

-"YOU’RE THIN AS A STICK, MAX!"

-"CAUSE YOU EAT ALL THE FOOD!"

-"Don’t make me remind you how we got into this mess to begin with."

-"OH, DON’T BRING THAT UP AGAIN!"

The endless bickering stopped abruptly when a sudden thud echoed. Twinkle Toes dropped the multitool at Max’s feet, admiring the pistol in his other hand.

-"Oh yeah, forgot about you," Max muttered.

-"The tool or the kid?"

-"Both, if I’m being honest," Max added, his smile crooked.

Max worked, making the hole bigger.

-"Is he holding a gun?"

-"It’s a revolver, Maeve."

-"Oh, sorry. Is he holding a revolver?"

As she finally dropped through, Max chuckled.

-"Here you go, buddy," he said, handing him a couple of rounds from his pocket. "I stole my first gun too."

-"I thought it was a revolver."

-"And I thought you knew I was illiterate."

The boat shook again, this time more violently.

-"You wanna go up there?"

-"I honestly think that nobody cares what I want."

-"You’re right," she said, handing him Twinkle Toes to carry.

...

He stood at the very center of the deck, unwavering as chaos brewed around him. Tall and broad-shouldered, he carried the weight of command with effortless ease, his deep-set eyes sharp and calculating, yet twinkling with a confidence that made him impossible to rattle.
A thick mustache framed his knowing smile—the kind that could make any woman weak in the knees, if not for the sheer intensity of his presence.
His right arm, from the elbow down, had been replaced with a gleaming metal fishing spear, polished to a deadly shine. It caught the dim light as he moved, a testament to both his power and his purpose.
There was something timeless about him—like a figure out of legend, forged by the sea itself.

As they spotted the figure standing firm amidst the descending mayhem, a reaction quite unlike any other was given. Someone, voice half in awe, half in disbelief, blurted out:

-"Who’s the weirdo with the porn 'stache?”

-"PORN 'STACHE?!" The man’s composure shattered as if he’d been yanked out of the moment entirely. His commanding presence wavered, and for a second, he just stared, utterly baffled.

-Clearing his throat, he straightened his shoulders and, with great dignity, declared, "I am to inform you, young lady, that this is no such 'porn 'stache.' This—" he gestured grandly to his pampered mustache, "is a distinguished specimen of what it truly means to be a man."

-"Dude, that’s definitely a porn 'stache."

Max’s words cutting through him like a blunt cleaver, slow and painful, his eye twitching, his lip rising, a vein protruding from his forehead.

-He shuffled, regaining his composure. "You are to be forgiven for your ignorance. What more could be expected from a prepubescent child?"

-"Dude, I’m like twenty-five."

-The man sighed, shaking his head with exaggerated pity. "Oh, how unfortunate. A true tragedy—to be abandoned by maturity, left hairless and foolish, like a mere babe."

-Max opened his mouth to argue, but the man had already turned away, lifting his shining metal spear-hand toward the horizon. "No matter! I have a ship to catch!"

A shadow looming over them, Blackbeard’s ship rising from the sea, with a thousand roars as it lifted into the air.

And there it goes. He plunged his metal hand into the air and stated, 'Remember this day, for it is today that you have bestowed your eyes upon Captain Rechard the Brave.'

The metal spire launching from his hand, clinging to the ship above, the connecting cable pulling him into the air.

The men cheered him on, like he was a rockstar.

-"Now, men! Together with the captain—to battle, to freedom!"

With a unified roar, they launched their harpoons and hooks skyward, the cables whistling through the night. One by one, they followed.

Max stood paralyzed, his eyes wide, staring at the chaos unfolding before him. He had never seen anything like it.

-Maeve, clearly unimpressed, crossed her arms and shot him a look. "What the fuck are these people on?"

-Max shook his head, still trying to process the madness. "I’ve never felt more embarrassed for somebody else in my life."

-Maeve gave him a pointed look, her tone dry. "Well, get used to it. We’re coming with them."

-"Why though?" Max asked, still in disbelief.

-Maeve shrugged, her eyes scanning the chaos around them. "Better the robots shoot at them than at us."

-Max winced, shaking his head. "I’d rather get shot at than spend another waking moment with Mr. Richard the Brave," he said, his voice dripping with mockery.

-She handed him the withered rope once more.

-"Hooker time."Max raised an eyebrow, a grin tugging at his lips.

-"Hooker time," Maeve approved with a nod.

A manic expression covered his face as he tied them all together with a quick glance. He scanned the place, finding his target.

Without warning, he sprinted like a bullet, aiming for a man starting his descent above. With a powerful lunge, he wrapped his arms and legs around him in a tight grip, shouting, "Got room for three more!"

Already in motion, the device yanked them all into the air, one by one, linked like a chain. They flew into the chaos.