The Golden Voyage of Barney Rubble, part 12

I awoke in defilement the next morning, the storm having past, the sky blue and a moron manning the wheel. My head was throbbing yet. I felt the demon of the Centipede Juice Barrel had left me in my overnight spasms of near death.

Now was the time to determine how to put my big errand back on track. But how?
"I must ponder this," I thought. But,no my head was, for the moment squandered. Devoid of thinkability, it merely throbbed painfully in the clear morning light. I must sit on deck, think of nothing and eat meal. No more sea monster brain.

However, first I painfully raised myself up and went along the rail to the scrub bucket. I lowered it into the sea, filled it up and began scrubbing myself and my cloak. It was an arduous task, for I was as filthy as a wild man after night after day of rotten despoilment on deck. Slowly, I began to come clean. I shaved myself with a sharkjaw and cut my hair short as my cloak dried out in the marine sunshine. After a great deal of time, my clean-up was complete and I rinsed the filth of residue from the gold-spattered deck.

After this, I recovered some oil from the hold and began to sluice it all over my body. It was slightly rancid, but no mind. It was making my body sleek and shiny. As the oil warmed up, it was easier to rub in. My hair glistened again. I leaned against the rail, drying in the sun, feeling somewhat recovered, although my head felt like the cave of a windy outpost filled with angry beasts.

Behind me, the morons had returned to their usual antics of loping on all fours like Parade Gorillas and whooping, whiffing and barking like the true morons they were. I couldn't fucking take it no more!

I turned to them and with more force than I had been able to muster in a great deal of time, bellowed to them at the top of my lungs, "Shut the fuck up, you goddamned morons!"

They stopped in their tracks and gaped at me, drooling and with eyes wide open. They looked at each other, perplexed, then back at me. Then they began to lope and whoop as though nothing had happened.

All of this would have to change.

I put on my cloak, sat back down on the deck and prepared to begin to think. As I did so I noticed a tiny sprite, sitting on a golden snake head, who sang:

Moron star shield where the sea has dried
Poop out another golden treat
Insisting that you run like a lithe ape
To the shoreline of the faraway land

The golden boat’s crew has gone
On the dreamhorse’s back, oh yeah.
Now my mind pierces the ocean’s mystery, yeah.

The mega zebra died on the shore painlessly
The scissor beak pinced his fool head clean off
Once we set sail to follow the blue stars
Our course was set, it was too far out

The golden boat’s crew has gone
On the dreamhorse’s back, oh yeah.
Now my mind pierces the ocean’s mystery, yeah.

The God Who Whistles in the Tree Tops yodeled
His song said, " A comet my friend, has flown by"
It couldn't last it had to stop it couldn't last

The golden boat’s crew has gone
On the dreamhorse’s back, oh yeah.
Now my mind pierces the ocean’s mystery, yeah.

After the sprite stopped singing, I started feeling better.