“I have guards in the towers. The guards would have seen them.”
“Oh. Well, then, would you believe that they were landed by submarine?”
“The beach is too shallow. A submarine couldn’t get within a mile of this island.”
“Ummmm. . well, then, would you believe that they were born and raised here?”
“The only thing that was born and raised on this island that’s still here is a bunch of coconut trees.”
“I suppose you’ve never heard of a bunch of secret agents disguising themselves.”
“Into the bucket!” Lucky Bucky ordered; “or I’ll disguise you as a secret agent full of bullet holes!”
Resigned, Max climbed up on the edge of the well, then stepped into the bucket.
“You next!” Lucky Bucky said to 99.
“Gurgch, gurgch, gurgch,” 99 said.
“What’s that?” Lucky Bucky asked curiously.
“She’s pumping out her bilges,” Max explained. “It’s a thing a ferry boat always does before it climbs into a bucket.”
99 emitted a final gurgch, then got in beside Max.
Lucky Bucky addressed the guard he had picked to handle the crank. “Get a good hold,” he said. “And, whatever you do, don’t let the bucket drop into the well.”
The guard gripped the crank.
“Did I hear that correctly?” Max said. “Did you tell the guard
“My exact words, more or less,” Lucky Bucky answered.
“You haven’t been a murderer very long, have you?” Max said. “You don’t seem to have the hang of it yet. You see, we won’t die unless the bucket drops into the well. That’s the point of having those crocodiles and that boiling oil at the bottom of the well.”
Lucky Bucky spoke to Guru Optimo. “Show ’em how it works,” he commanded.
Guru Optimo raised a hand. There was a flash of light.
The guard began giggling and squirming. And every time he squirmed he loosened his hold on the crank and the bucket dropped an inch or two closer to the boiling oil and crocodiles.
“Oh, yes, I see how it’s done,” Max said interestedly. “Guru Optimo zopped the guard into thinking he’s being tickled. And, in time, he’ll lose his grip on the crank and the bucket will fall into the well. Very clever. I apologize for calling you an amateur murderer. You’re a real pro.”
“You’re not a bad victim, either,” Lucky Bucky replied, returning the compliment. “You die real good. What I don’t like is them first-timers-all that yelling and screaming. You must have had a lot of experience at getting murdered.”
“No, I guess I just take to it naturally,” Max said.
“Well, have a nice die,” Lucky Bucky said. “It’s getting late. Guru Baby and I won’t wait up for the end. I like him to get a lot of sleep. He’s in training.”
“Good luck with the tap dancing,” Max called as Lucky Bucky and Guru Optimo and the other guards departed.
The bucket jerked, and dropped a few inches closer to the boiling oil and crocodiles.
“I knew that someday I’d kick the bucket,” Max said to 99, “but I had no idea that I’d be in it when I kicked it.”
“You’re sitting on my rudder,” 99 said.
“I’m sorry, 99. But it’s a little crowded in this bucket. Can’t you tuck your rudder under your horn pipe or something? And, besides, the Staten Island Ferry can’t talk. So be quiet for a moment, please, and let me try to think of a way out of this mess.”
The bucket dropped again.
Max spoke to the guard. “You know, if you put your mind to it, you could get over being ticklish.”
The guard ignored him. Suffering a spasm of giggling he loosened his hold on the crank, dropping the bucket almost a foot closer to the oil and crocodiles.
“Evidently this is the last chapter in our lives, 99,” Max said. “There’s no way out. I guess I better telephone the Chief and say our final goodbyes.”
“Ask him if he knows what to do for empty bilges,” 99 said.
“Yes, all right, I’ll do that.”
Max wriggled around in the bucket until he was able to reach his shoe phone and remove it. Then he dialed.
(Buzzing)
(a click as the Chief hung up)
