Monster King

“Hey, Mr. Dickem!” a sailor called over. “The skipper wants to see you on the bridge, he says we’re at the coordinates you wanted.”

“Ah, thank you young man,” Karl replied. “OK Jack, you’re so curious about our destination, come along and hear this too.”

The two men entered the bridge to find Captain Anglerod waiting for them over a table covered in sea charts. “Alright Dickem, you said when we got to this location you’d fill me in on the rest.”

“Just about in Japanese waters,” Karl said.

“I was a sailor in the Pacific theater, but I was never in these parts. Where the fuck are we going, man?” the grizzled old captain asked.

“Head southwest,” Karl answered.

“Southwest? There’s jack shit southwest of here,” Anglerod protested.

“That’s not entirely true. Check this shit out,” Karl said, removing a page from his shirt pocket. He unfolded it and laid it on the table. “This island is our destination.”

Anglerod studied the hand-drawn map. “So according to this ... Hold on, let me find the r