“Oh Peter,” Wendy sighed, “it’s perfectly sweet of you to want to get me home but remember that my two brothers have already been eaten! How am I to tell Mother and Father that? And by pirates, no less! They will surely not believe me and accuse me of making up fanciful stories and I shall be lucky if I am allowed cake or ice-cream again before Christmas! Besides,” she added sheepishly, “all the boys and girls here have already seen me in the nude! That is most unladylike! I’m not sure I should be able to hold my head up in polite society from now on knowing that I have been seen naked by so many! I really think it best,” she explained gently as if worried about upsetting him, “that you cook me just as the pirates planned to and serve me up for the boys and girls beside Tiger-Lilly. What do you say?” She turned to the audience with an engaging smile. “You’d enjoy some roast Wendy as your main course after an appetiser of boiler Tiger-Lilly, wouldn’t you?” The children all roared their enthusiastic agreement.

“I guess that’s settled then!” Peter grinned. “Spit-roast Wendy coming up! Oh what a splendid feast this will be!” But just then, Tinkerbelle stamped her foot again, shook her jingling fist angrily at Peter and Wendy and folded her arms sulkily, turning her back to them with her nose in the air.

“What’s the matter with her?” Wendy asked, concerned. “Is she cross that I will be cooked? I really don’t mind!” She tried to address Tinkerbelle directly but she just huffed and stamped her foot again. “I really do think it’s better this way!” Tink shook her head emphatically and Peter looked embarrassed, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

“What she’s saying, Wendy,” he translated a little grudgingly, “is that fairy meat is so much tastier than girl… Sorry,” he corrected himself as Tink shook her fist at him again, “that stupid girl!” Wendy looked a little hurt. “She says if anyone else should get cooked for the boys and girls it should be her!”

“Oh is that all!” Wendy smiled, looking relieved now. The young naked actress crossed the stage area to her fellow cast member whose lovely, very edible-looking body was clearly visible through her translucent costume. “Dear Tinkerbelle,” she put a hand on her arm, “look how many boys and girls there are here! And grown-ups too! I’m sure, if that’s what you want, that they have plenty of room for all three of us!” At this, the fairy seemed to brighten, turning to look at the audience hopefully. “That’s true, isn’t it?” Wendy asked the party-goers. “You’d be able to eat Tinkerbelle all up too? I’m sure fairy meat is very sweet and tender!” Once again, the audience gave emphatic agreement. “See?” Wendy beamed. “We can both be cooked! Won’t that be fun?”

Slightly reluctant at first, hesitating once or twice, starting to turn then turning back, Tinkerbelle seemed to make up her mind that she was satisfied with this arrangement and turned to give Wendy a hug of reconciliation.

“Now we have to work out how we’re going to cook you!” Peter pointed out to his fairy companion. “But first we need to get you out of those clothes!”

Inside the crocodile, Luke shifted around to get comfortable. It was not too bad, really, even if the metal plate on which he lay was hard, he had enough room to move and to stretch out, far more so than in any normal oven, even those designed for cooking people. His feet rested against the stop which, he knew, was the divider between the oven part of the animatronic croc and the hydraulics and other mechanisms that made it crawl forward and move. Of course there was no actual back half of the creature, just enough body to fade back into the darkness when the head and shoulders emerged from the gave, giving the impression, from a reasonable distance, of course, of a whole beast.

He was very happy with how the performance had gone, including the fight scenes and how he had delivered his dialogue. He certainly seemed to have struck the right note with the audience who had booed his every move and gleefully cheered at his demise. Now there was nothing more expected of him than to lay here and cook. Seasoned oil, he knew, would spray from above every now and then, although he did not know how often to expect that, nor how long her would remain alive inside the rapidly-heating, cleverly-disguised oven. Once the jaws of the crocodile were closed, the interlocking teeth formed a seal as good as that of any normal oven door, to prevent the heat from escaping, and he was fairly confident that he would pass out from the air around him becoming too hot to breath and from using up his oxygen long before the heat actually got to him.

Although his stump didn’t hurt or ache any more, the metal hook was rather heavy and it felt nice to be able to rest it by his side, no longer needing to hold it up. But speaking of things being held up, with his remaining real hand, his dominant left one, he began to stroke the erection that had been straining against his comical underwear for the past three hours. Although he had been warned that it would be difficult to urinate and therefore to make sure he wasn’t going to need to, he had been assured that it would retain all other function. The Permahard injection meant that nothing he did now was going to make it deflate and spoil the presentation of his roasted carcass and he was sure that nobody would object to a little extra seasoning in the baste so, finally able to relax and with absolute confidence that nobody would be looking, instead of making a prisoner walk it, the pirate Captain began to happily yank his plank!


To be continued...