Bev was now sitting inside a locked cabin filled with a few other parrots watching daytime TV. Occasionally she attempted to ask whether there would be any conversation not involving how much their own swords would be worth on various antiques shows, but she was steadfastly ignored. The only interesting part was when Baa entered the cabin and took bets on who would be the champions of champions on Countdown; Bev placed a bet of fifty *insert currency here* on the child genius before deciding to escape.
Her method was simple, but highly effective- she grabbed one of the more valuable "antique" swords and threw it across the room, distracting the bloodthirsty murderers. In the time it took them to rush around in panic, dent the sword, panic again and finally accept the loss, Bev had managed to take a lifeboat and escape- there was at Sat-Nav system that could guide her back home quite effectively.
Jock and Bill somehow manoeuvred the Imparroter into the harbour of Tartar Island without lasting damage to the harbour, the ship or the innocent bystanders. Still, Jock slapped someone around the face with a dead parrot- partly because it was a matter of principle, and partly out of habit. Turning to Bill, Jock explained his knowledge of Tartar to the other weird man-child.
"The best place in town for recruiting parrots is the Pokemon Fan Club. They're notoriously fierce, but loyal... as long as you don't talk about Digimon."
Bill nodded in a mistaken wide-eyed respect for the oddly attired parrot, and followed him as he danced onwards, so his dancing clothes wouldn't become a defunct character quirk.
They wandered through a random street which, unbeknownst to them, was actually Parrot Slap Lane, wherein the general social rules as regards to assault with dead animals no longer apply. By the time they reached the large building shaped like a Pokemon Centre, they were covered with peck, bite and somehow sting marks.
The sliding doors opened, revealing a large room filled with people dressed as their favourite characters and clutching surprisingly realistic plush versions of their Pokemon that made Bill ache for Mr Candyfloss. These Pokemon fakes were actually little bags, with a section to hold their games consoles at all times.
Jock and Bill were mostly ignored as they approached the Nurse Joy, begged for some Max Potions, complained that they only got Hyper Potions, were slapped by a dead parrot, slapped some other people with dead parrots, were extremely confused as the author confiscated the dead parrots as it was far too overused, questioned their own existence as the author tried to hide in the Trading Centre and finally settled down to drink their Hyper Potions as the author regained control of the story and stopped trying to enter the storyline.
"So any idea who to begin with?" Bill enquired, looking out into the sea of Pokefans.
"We're looking for an old friend of mine... well, I say friend... could've been four blokes, the whole country, tedious inevitability..."
Bill Bailey's beard, actually an animal trained to sit very still, zoomed in on a trouser-press Segway, handed Jock a court order telling him not to plagiarise, and left, allowing Jock to continue and ignore the temporary insanity constantly occurring in this story- and continue to incur the wrath of the beard.
"Yeah, we're going to get help from Ms Dibbs. Want an Egg of Numbing Inevitability?" He added, pointing to a drunken parrot clutching a Metapod bag containing an ancient Gameboy- a brick with black and white moving blocks, basically.
Bill and Jock were beginning to worry that they wouldn't be able to get help as they munched on the toys from their Kinder Eggs out of sheer despair.
Bev, who had been sailing for approximately ten minutes, and she was already tipsy from the booze kept for emergencies in the lifeboat. Just as she had done many years ago, Bev Duck was now singing that haunting melody...
"I don't care where you come from, if you're big or your small, I've fought the best, and I beat them all!"
Unbeknownst to Bev, the zombie corpse of Billy Connolly had teamed up with Bill Bailey's beard and they were now latched onto the underside of Bev's lifeboat ready to kick some copyright-infringing ass. They had accepted for now that they couldn't hurt the author yet- not unless she tried to put herself into the story again. So now they'd make the characters suffer...
I'm baaaaack! And the next chapter is on its way hopefully, so expect more mind-warping weirdness!