In no time at all, the Rigor Mortis was creaking calmly and rolling out over the bulbous, purple sea. Jaundice looked at Neville and Rubella as they stared into the darkness, and smiled. ‘Don’t you go worryin’ your noggins off. I’ve got a score to settle with Great Gurty. We’ll get him.’
‘I hope so,’ said Neville.
‘I know so,’ said Jaundice. ‘But while you’re onboard you’ll work with the rest of us.’
‘I’M NOT WORKIN’,’ said Rubella.
‘Oh, yes, you are, chublin’,’ Jaundice said sternly. ‘And, just for that, you can march straight off to the laundry. Plenty of panty-bloomers down there that need a-scrubbin’.’
‘I AIN’T SCRUBBIN’ NO PANTY-BLOOMERS!’
‘THEN YOU WON’T EAT!’ snapped Jaundice.
Rubella pulled a face like someone who had just swallowed a porcupine, and stomped down the stairs to the decks below.
Jaundice turned and looked at Neville. ‘As for you, Blood-gulping Brisket, you can head off to the kitchen and help with dinner.’ Then she turned to everyone else and screamed, ‘SQUIBBLY SAILIN’!’ and stormed off into her cabin.