Mr. Bibs and the Island of Giant Cocks

“Good day reader” said the lady in front of you while directing her attention towards the fourth wall.

“My name is Claire Fitzgerald,” she continued in an ever so crisp tone. Her hands hold a small picture album, a title engraved or pressed or however such a craft is done into the leather cover that makes up the album. The titles read the same as the title atop this page. She slowly pulled the album up to her face, hiding all but her eyes.

“Let me tell you a story” Claire says smiling wryly, or at least you would assume so because that was how she sounded, but the album still covered her face.

            With those words a mist encircles you, it may not be obvious but this is completely safe, in all likelihood you are about to experience a flashback of sorts.

“This story begins on August 4^th, 1910 in a small port city known as Port Angeles.” Said Claire.

“Mr. Bibs and myself were to set out on an adventure that evening. Mr. Bibs was a sporting young lad who enjoyed running and playing, though he especially enjoyed hunting fowl. He had heard legends of an island in the south of Alaska that had large game birds. His aunt having recently passed, Mr. Bibs found himself with a large sum of money. That was why we were in Port Angeles, to acquire gear and a ship,” said Claire, now begging to open up the album.

“I met Mr. Bibs out by one of the piers, greeting him when I arrived.”

“Meow” said Mr. Bibs, being the flirt that he usually is.

“There were two ships available for purchase: a small fishing boat called Svava, and a fair sized ferry called the Princess May” said Claire, showing you a photograph of the two ships docked at the pier.

“Mr. Bibs always went big, or home… and since he was hunting large fowl it only seemed appropriate to him to get the larger of the ships. At this point I tried to talk him down but he would not hear a word of it. We loaded up the ship and set out.” Said Claire, turning the page of the album showing a picture of Mr. Bibs shouting commands down a metal tube to the engine room.

“He always had to be in charge, even though he had never captained a ship before,” said Clair, but she was interrupted by you. How rude. At this point you ask a question regarding the fact that Mr. Bibs is a kitten. You find it odd but Claries body language shows how completely normal it must have been for a millionaire kitten to try and captain a ship.

“Of course Mr. Bibs was a kitten,” Claire continued, “that’s rather a silly question reader, I don’t see why it was necessary to bring up. Do you mind if I continue now, hopefully without your interruptions?” With that Claire tuned the page again showing the Princess May stuck upon some rocks, you decide it’s best not to comment, you know very well that this happened because a kitten was at the wheel.

“We reached Sentinel Island,” said Claire, who then paused, but then continued first by correcting herself.

“We beached upon Sentinel Island, this was not out end destination, but the larger island nearby was. Luckily it was close enough to paddle to in the life rafts. Mr. Bibs was determined to hunt the large fowl and no stranded ship would deter him. As we neared the island we heard the cries of many a rooster on the wind. This indeed was the fabled island of giant cocks.” Said Claire while motioning with her hands, as if to express how large this birds actually were. You try to keep a straight face as she continues,

“When we reached the shore Mr. Bibs jumped right off the raft and ran straight away into the woods. I cried after him but to no avail. The crew of the Princess May and I set up camp on the shores. Shifts were taken during the night but Mr. Bibs did not return, though we knew he was all right. He was a kitten after all; this gave him quite the unfair advantage, some would dare to say it was an acute advantage.” Said Claire. You give her a look of disapproval because you don’t like Puns. You do however know that puns are one of the highest forms of wordplay and comedy and a normal individual would appreciate such a joke.

“The next morning a red sun rose, we knew blood had been shed that night. With a rustling and a purring Mr. Bibs sprung from the forest onto the shore dragging three large rooster behind.” Claire says while showing you yet another picture. You disregard the painted backdrop.

“It was incredible, I was so proud of my Mr. Bibs.” Claire says to you, then looking off into the distance, lost in thought. You decide not to bring her back to reality, since you suspect she was never there to begin with.