October 2025 - Entrant

Captain Booby perched on the cliffs of his Pacific island, luminous eyes fixated upon the approaching speedboat. He ruffled his feathers then raised each vibrant blue foot in turn.

“Captain Booby, sir?” A shorter, less slender specimen tugged his wing. “What are we doing?”

Captain narrowed his sapphire eyes. “Quenching our burning thirst for revenge, soldier.”

“Oh.” The smaller booby lifted its feet, a clumsy parody of the captain. “Like this, sir?”

Captain Booby nodded. “Follow my lead, soldier.” He waddled awkwardly towards the only building. “If in doubt, just smile and wave, boy, smile and wave.”

***

Maybella Moore and Candi App nearly tipped the speedboat jostling for prime position to disembark.

“Outta the way, cow.” Candi sunk a sharp elbow into Maybella’s well-cushioned midriff. “I need a shot of the beach without your fat-ass footsteps.”

“Shove off,” Maybella retorted. “This is a spiritual journey, not a scab grab for subscribers.”

They tumbled onto the sand, clutching their individual tickets to adventure; jam jar lids with two-of-a-kind metallic blue inserts. Trying to trip each other, they bolted to the cinder-block building adorned with a simple sign, Cosmic Jam Factory. 

“This place is butt ugly.” Candi groaned.

“Seriously, how did you even get a ticket?” Maybella side-eyed Candi. 

“We’re at the most perfect convergence of celestial superhighways, the most magical place in the world, and that’s all that matters. I bet you’ve never even eaten cosmic jam.”

Candi modelled her svelte body. “As if I keep this figure by eating jam.”

“I knew it!” Maybella pulled a jar from her handbag and unscrewed the lid. She swiped a finger inside, gathering a dollop of… air. “Cosmic jam has no calories. It’s all essence.”

A chipper voice spoke over a loudspeaker. “Welcome, winners!”

“Who said that?” Candi scanned the beach, seeing only a bird with blue feet, waving a wing from atop the building. “Freak.”

Maybella shrugged. “They’re blue-footed boobies. They used to breed here.”

“They’re really called boobies?” Candi whipped out her phone and snapped a thousand shots in ten seconds. 

“Helllloooo, clickbait!”

“Step aside.” Maybella shoved past. “Your inauthenticity is smudging my aura.”

Candi hissed. “You must shit cosmic jam you’ve eaten so much, but you still have the personality of a turd.”

***

They entered the building and the smaller booby pressed the emergency lock.

The door slammed.

“Nice catch, soldier.” Captain Booby patted his subordinate’s head. “We’ll eat well this evening.”

“This wasn’t in the contract,” Candi screeched. “What kind of second-rate establishment is this? Also, this lighting is atrocious. Where’s hair and makeup?”

Captain Booby shuddered. “We prefer our humans au naturel.”  He preened. 

“This is no longer a whacked out conspiracy factory. We have reclaimed it as a sacred breeding ground for avian-kind.”

“Duh.” Maybella licked her lips. “We know it’s sacred. The vibes of this place are to die for.”

“So glad you understand.” Captain beamed. “Because we’ve eaten all the scientists and,” he waved a wing, “fish just seems so vanilla these days.”