The Salty Shark was calmly still at the decks lf the Crème Republic. Purple Staghorn Cookie, one of the sailors, was focused on checking the tension of the ropes that secured a stack of crates. They tightened a knot with unnecessary vigor, shooting a stern glance at their shipmate, Blue Sponge Cookie, who was leaning against the thick wooden railing.

“Blue Sponge Cookie, seriously. Less slacking, more polishing,” Purple Staghorn Cookis grumbled. “The Captain isn’t going to tolerate slackers just because the sea is calm.”

Blue Sponge Cookie shifted their body and adjusted their hat. “Slackers? Purple Staghorn Cookie, I am performing crucial maritime research! I am testing the structural integrity of this railing against my own weight. It’s a vital study! Besides, the Cap'n understands my need for preparatory repose.”

Purple Staghorn Cookie just rolled their eyes. “Preparatory repose is another name for napping. You’re going to get caught, and I’m tired of covering your shifts.”