“Oh, hallo, didn’t see you there.”
 
“Yeah, I only just landed in a huge black helicopter on the deck. You know, I don’t really appreciate getting grabbed by a bunch of military guys and dragged away when I’m in the middle of writing music.”
 
“You can hardly call it music.”
 
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. So why am I here? And why are you wearing that hat?”
 
“Oh, this? Father lets me wear it when I’m on deck.”
 
“Father?”
 
“Yes, he’s Grand Admiral of the royal fleet. Didn’t I mention it?”
 
“I guess it never came up.”
 
“Yes, well. I had you brought here because I did in fact wish to speak with you. You see, you’re not doing the washing up when it’s your turn on the job board.”
 
“Hey, you can’t expect me to~~”
 
“One moment please.” She turns her head. “FIRE!!” Octavia glances back over her shoulder. “Please cover your ears.”
 
“Wha~~”
 
The battleship’s main guns clank and whir as they detach from resting position and rotate towards a small island in the distance. With a boom that shakes the deck under her hooves and nearly blows the hat off Octavia’s head, a half-dozen 16-inch guns open up on the distant island, laying gigantic explosions across its shore, vaporizing earth, immolating all vegetation, bursting stone into dust, and flash-heating the sand into cloudy fragments of shining glass which spray in a glitter across the horizon. The guns fire over and over, the island getting smaller and smaller as chunks are blown away until there is nothing left in the distance except boiling empty ocean.
 
Octavia signals and the guns stop and rotate into resting position with a clank, huge barrels smoking with heat.
 
She turns back. “I’m sorry, you were saying something about washing up?”
 
“Uhh, yes, yes, yes, I was. I was saying I’m going to do all of the dishes forever and all the cleaning and dusting and stuff, too.”
 
“How considerate.”