Strained Relations on The Good Ship Guppy
Just a few years into his captaincy, it became apparent to everyone that Cap’n Crunch was a veritable powerhouse on the seas—a seemingly untouchable icon. Many found inspiration in Crunch’s humble beginnings directing a meager crew comprised only of a bespectacled young boy and a dog. As the years progressed, the crew grew steadily larger, though not older. Rumors began to surface that the crews were always children only because there wasn’t an adult in the world naïve enough to tolerate Crunch’s overbearing ego. Unnamed sources in the military all corroborated that despite four decades of experience commanding a ship, it was Crunch’s abrasive pompousness that prevented him from ever realizing that elusive promotion to Admiral.
Former crew members (that is, those who hadn’t lost their lives to alcoholism and drug abuse in adulthood) filed a joint lawsuit in 2002, citing severe mental anguish from the Cap’n’s relentless boasting at having his own cereal and his oftentimes-violent insistence that anything could be achieved with it. Whether it was save the day, cure onboard illnesses, or treat wounds, Cap’n Crunch incessantly praised and employed his cereal. As the cereal grew in popularity, Crunch’s delusions became more frequent and far more pronounced. He was often found bathing in his cereal, sleeping with his cereal, and court records indicate he officially married it in 1977.
Though no one could have predicted it at the time, it was Crunch’s campaign against the Soggies that would eventually result in his dramatic fall from grace. True, the Royal Oats Navy had given the orders to Cap’n Crunch to contain and eliminate the “Soggie Threat,” but no one could have foreseen the extreme lengths the Cap’n would go to in order to succeed. The gruesome spree of decapitations that Crunch engineered in his drive to eradicate the Soggies would come back to haunt him.
Later, when the world discovered that crunchberries originated on a remote archipelago the Soggies were indigenous to, the truth was revealed—the Cap’n had been illegally harvesting crunchberries and ruthlessly exploiting the natives for years. The news came as a shock. People’s perspectives changed. No longer were the Soggies the evil aggressors we’d all made them out to be. It became apparent that the only thing the Soggies were guilty of was trying to defend their way of life.
Public opinion slowly began to turn on Crunch. The papers were ruthless.
Accusations of the military manufacturing the “Soggie Threat” on Crunch’s behalf were everywhere. The word “genocide” was bandied about. And all this before the illegal crunchberry-beast market the Cap’n was allegedly orchestrating came to light.
Crunch’s Milk Goes Sour
In the years after the Soggie story leaked in the Post, several other allegations began to surface that would lead to Cap’n Crunch’s eventual court martial and Dishonorable Discharge. There were the millions of dollars in property damage from the countless instances Crunch grounded his ship in overzealous “Crunch-a-tizing” operations. Plaintiffs recounted with horror the same haunting whistle moments before The Good Ship Guppy came crashing through private and public property alike. The payouts to cover the skyrocketing rate of nervous breakdowns and post-traumatic stress disorder were enough to financially and emotionally bankrupt the Cap’n.
Environmental groups had a heyday when it was revealed that the Royal Oats Navy had been covering up the staggering casualties to sea organisms from Cap’n Crunch constantly lavishing his cereal on various ocean animals. Then there were the protests holding Crunch accountable for the myriad international child labor laws he ignored over four decades. The most damaging allegations personally to Crunch—the metaphorical sea salt in the wound—were the charges brought up by the medical community, citing two generations of grotesque palate disabilities from the severe lacerations that often accompanied the consumption of his cereal.
Sailing Into the Sunset
While researching this book, I was invariably met with the same question everywhere I went. "Why would you, Jean LaFoote the Barefoot Pirate and long-term adversary of Cap’n Crunch, want to pen a biography about your arch-nemesis?
Well, let me to answer this by saying that I’ve grown considerably as a person since my pirating days began. I wear shoes now. I own a condo. Sure, my mother had to co-sign, but it’s pretty much mine. And looking back on it, I have difficulty determining why I devoted so much of my life to stealing Horatio’s cereal recipe. So I suppose I penned this biography to gain some new perspective about myself.
I’m not ashamed of my past. When you spend your life at sea, you discover things about yourself. And the Cap’n… well, I’ve come to recognize that the Cap’n is a very charming man. The precise details of our current relationship are not ones I wish to delve into here, but let’s just say that the Cap’n is a very considerate shipmate. He makes me feel safe. And his moustache is surprisingly soft and silky. As for whether or not there is any truth to the rumors that we plan to use the profits from this book to retire to a secluded tropical island together… I have no comment.