But Skippy only laughed, swinging back and forth as though the mast were a playground swing. “Look, Popeye! I’m practicin’ my new move—the Skippy Spiral!” he shouted, spinning in a blur of arms and enthusiasm.
Popeye’s scream grew even louder. “Quit Spiralizin’! Ya gonna spiral right into the ocean!”
The sailor rushed across the deck, boots pounding against the planks. His hat nearly flew off as he cupped his hands around his mouth, shouting again—this time even louder, if that was possible. Seagulls scattered. A passing fisherman turned his head. Even the ocean seemed to ripple in response.
But Skippy continued his acrobatics, swinging from rope to rope like he had suddenly become king of the mast. “Don’t worry, Popeye!” he called down cheerfully. “I’ve got perfect balance!”
Just as he said that, his foot slipped.
Popeye screamed again—loud enough to wake Neptune himself. “SKIPPY!”
Skippy tumbled downward, but at the last moment caught a loose rope, spinning wildly before landing in a heap near Popeye’s boots. The sailor froze, eyes wider than portholes, mouth hanging open in shock. Skippy popped his head up with a grin, hair sticking in every direction.
“See?” he said triumphantly. “Perfect balance!”
Popeye wiped his forehead and let out a long groan of relief. “Kid, you’re gonna turn me greener than my spinach with these stunts…”
Skippy simply laughed, hopping back onto his feet as though nothing unusual had happened at all. “So… should I try the Double Skippy Spiral next?”
Popeye let out one final, exhausted scream—less fear this time, and more frustration. “NOOOOOO!”
The seagulls fled again.
And somewhere in the distance, the ocean definitely laughed.
