Magical Shipwright

The Wanderer's shipwright, a free-spirited artist.

Sadly, Ottopia can't appreciate his talent.

"Cheap, cheap, and cheaper still!" A sea hamster sprayed spit as he laid out what he wanted. "None of that art of yours!"

Ottopia's shipyards have no use for smooth, flowing hulls. Nail a few bundles of planks together into something that floats and that's good enough.

Taste that crude had Tim rolling on the floor in a fit. Once again his blueprints were thrown on the ground and stamped with a few black footprints.

Until a designer who knew the trade picked them up by chance and gasped in disbelief:

"This, this is a masterpiece of shipbuilding!"

How does an artist end up working for wages in Ottopia? His big mouth offended too many people!

The designers at the Royal Shipyard will never forget the shadow Tim cast over them.

Every morning he stood at the door on the dot, straightened his bow tie, smoothed his hair bun, then marched into the workshop with his head high and tore into everyone's work.

"Is this your design? Sorry, I thought someone had left toilet paper here."

"Is that meant to be a ship? Were you planning to get a monkey to fold you a paper boat?"

Could somebody please tie him up and throw him in the sea? No, wait: first brew a potion that strikes him dumb and pour it down his throat!

His colleagues went from ashamed to fed up, and all of them stuck their fingers in their ears and wished disaster on him.

After years of suffering, their luck finally turned: Tim tripped up in front of someone important and was kicked out of the shipyard.

Tim drifted to Ottopia, where the boss, Cartman, flattered and conned him into joining the Bankrupt Shipyard, so he could carry on as chief designer somewhere new.

So weren't the shipwrights at the Bankrupt Shipyard in for a terrible time?

Not at all. They still slack off at work and put their feet up and sleep after hours. In the shipyard's endless racket, however much Tim runs his mouth, he can't make a ripple.