“You’re a sky pirate now, kid,” Elara said, lighting a cigarillo with shaking hands. “Congratulations. You’re also a hostage.”
“Take me with you!” he yelled, grinning. sky pirates pigeon forge
“Navigator, give me a status,” she said, not looking back. “You’re a sky pirate now, kid,” Elara said,
The Iron Carolyn was a marvel of redneck engineering—a retired Dollywood monorail car mated to a surplus carnival ride’s hydraulic lift system, suspended beneath a cluster of weather balloons painted to look like cotton candy clouds. Its engine ran on propane and spite. Its propellers were repurposed ceiling fans from a closed-down Hobby Lobby. “You’re a sky pirate now
“Grapples away!” Mimsy cried.