"Captain, is my prosthetic made of the same material? This is great—light and sturdy." Chef Plank hobbled over on his prosthetic leg. He seemed a little unaccustomed to it, walking with a limp.
Watching him walk, Charles was reminded of the doctor now lying in the cemetery.
"How's the prosthetic? Getting used to it?" Charles asked.
"Used to it? Hell yes! You can even add pulleys inside—it's faster to slide than walk! Honestly, if it weren't so damn expensive, I'd chop off all four of my limbs and swap them for prosthetics."
The portly chef showed off the various abilities of his prosthetic to Charles. His timid, sycophantic expression had vanished. It seemed that after surviving a life-and-death struggle together, he had finally and fully integrated into the crew of the Narwhal.
