Fishin'
Fishin'
by Carl Footinmouth
The sun had just begun to set behind the trees as Petey took another sip from his beer. He checked the line - no bites. Even though he had yet to catch a fish, he smiled, and finished off his bottle, and threw it on the pile with the rest.
Perhaps it was the sound of glass clinking together that awoke the beast. Perhaps it was the smell of human, or the sight of this man in his small rowboat in the middle of the lake. Regardless of the cause, the sea monster was awake, and hungry.
Small bubbles began to rise in a direct line from the monster's underwater lair to the unsuspecting fisherman's boat. Petey sat oblivious, humming a little sea shanty and casting off his fishing pole yet again.
It wasn't until the boat gave a sudden jerk that Petey even knew something was amiss.
“Whoah there! Where'd that wave come from?” asked Petey to no one in particular. The boat gave another jerk, and Petey was nearly thrown over the side. “What in tarnation...!” Petey exclaimed.
With the third and final movement, Petey was out of the boat, into the water, and carried back to the lair of the sea monster. The sudden excitement was too much for Petey, and he passed out along the way.
When he awoke, he saw the sea monster sitting before him.
“Hello.” said the sea monster.
“Where am I?” asked Petey.
“This is my lair - I'm the sea monster.”
“What's a sea monster doing in the lake? Shouldn't you be in the sea?”
“Oh, living in the sea is a young monster's game. Back when I was terrorizing people all the time, the sea was great - shipping vessels, cruise ships, ferries... they were all great fun to attack and bring people to their doom. But I'm an old monster now - now all these boats have great motors, and it's much easier to just grab a row boat now and then here in the lake.”
“I can see that. I used to be a fisherman on the sea, too, but now I am also too old, and prefer to catch the odd fish here and there on the lake. I guess we're not all that different, you and I.”
“I guess not.”
There was a long pause as they looked at one another.
“So,” said Petey, “I'm down here for my doom, eh?”
“Yes, I'm about to doom it up” said the sea monster as it got up and began to gather up some doom-tools. “But you're a pretty nice fellow, so I'll let you choose your doom.”
“Very kind of you. What are my options?”
“Well, I'll leave it up to you, really. Usually I just drown people and eat them, or filet them and eat them, or make them into a soup and eat them. But if you have a special request, I'll see what I can do.”
“Hmmm...” thought Petey, trying to think of the most pleasant doom he could think of. Finally, he had it. “I think I'd like to die from affluenza. It's a new disease we've got up on the surface.”
“And what would that involve?”
“Well, the way I think it works is that you'd give me so much money that for the rest of my life I'd be living in hedonistic bliss without regard for anyone else around me, until finally at a ripe old age I'd die after snorting a mountain of cocaine off a stripper's ass, and then driving a luxury car through the streets, running over orphans and finally driving off a cliff in a blaze of glory.”
“Could the cliff overlook the water, so that when you sink down I can then eat you? That's my favorite part of the doom-making.”
“Sure.”
“Alright, you've got a deal.” And then Petey lived the rest of his life in a way that would make even Charlie Sheen ashamed, until he finally went on his drug-fueled orphan-killing blitz and was eaten by the sea monster. And then the sea monster also died from a second-hand drug overdose just because of all the cocaine that was still in Petey's system. This made everyone happy except for the owner of the orphanage, because now his orphans were dead, and the sea monster that kept killing all the kids' parents was also dead, so there were suddenly too few orphans to even need an orphanage, so he had to find a new line of work.
He became a haberdasher.
The End
by Carl Footinmouth
The sun had just begun to set behind the trees as Petey took another sip from his beer. He checked the line - no bites. Even though he had yet to catch a fish, he smiled, and finished off his bottle, and threw it on the pile with the rest.
Perhaps it was the sound of glass clinking together that awoke the beast. Perhaps it was the smell of human, or the sight of this man in his small rowboat in the middle of the lake. Regardless of the cause, the sea monster was awake, and hungry.
Small bubbles began to rise in a direct line from the monster's underwater lair to the unsuspecting fisherman's boat. Petey sat oblivious, humming a little sea shanty and casting off his fishing pole yet again.
It wasn't until the boat gave a sudden jerk that Petey even knew something was amiss.
“Whoah there! Where'd that wave come from?” asked Petey to no one in particular. The boat gave another jerk, and Petey was nearly thrown over the side. “What in tarnation...!” Petey exclaimed.
With the third and final movement, Petey was out of the boat, into the water, and carried back to the lair of the sea monster. The sudden excitement was too much for Petey, and he passed out along the way.
When he awoke, he saw the sea monster sitting before him.
“Hello.” said the sea monster.
“Where am I?” asked Petey.
“This is my lair - I'm the sea monster.”
“What's a sea monster doing in the lake? Shouldn't you be in the sea?”
“Oh, living in the sea is a young monster's game. Back when I was terrorizing people all the time, the sea was great - shipping vessels, cruise ships, ferries... they were all great fun to attack and bring people to their doom. But I'm an old monster now - now all these boats have great motors, and it's much easier to just grab a row boat now and then here in the lake.”
“I can see that. I used to be a fisherman on the sea, too, but now I am also too old, and prefer to catch the odd fish here and there on the lake. I guess we're not all that different, you and I.”
“I guess not.”
There was a long pause as they looked at one another.
“So,” said Petey, “I'm down here for my doom, eh?”
“Yes, I'm about to doom it up” said the sea monster as it got up and began to gather up some doom-tools. “But you're a pretty nice fellow, so I'll let you choose your doom.”
“Very kind of you. What are my options?”
“Well, I'll leave it up to you, really. Usually I just drown people and eat them, or filet them and eat them, or make them into a soup and eat them. But if you have a special request, I'll see what I can do.”
“Hmmm...” thought Petey, trying to think of the most pleasant doom he could think of. Finally, he had it. “I think I'd like to die from affluenza. It's a new disease we've got up on the surface.”
“And what would that involve?”
“Well, the way I think it works is that you'd give me so much money that for the rest of my life I'd be living in hedonistic bliss without regard for anyone else around me, until finally at a ripe old age I'd die after snorting a mountain of cocaine off a stripper's ass, and then driving a luxury car through the streets, running over orphans and finally driving off a cliff in a blaze of glory.”
“Could the cliff overlook the water, so that when you sink down I can then eat you? That's my favorite part of the doom-making.”
“Sure.”
“Alright, you've got a deal.” And then Petey lived the rest of his life in a way that would make even Charlie Sheen ashamed, until he finally went on his drug-fueled orphan-killing blitz and was eaten by the sea monster. And then the sea monster also died from a second-hand drug overdose just because of all the cocaine that was still in Petey's system. This made everyone happy except for the owner of the orphanage, because now his orphans were dead, and the sea monster that kept killing all the kids' parents was also dead, so there were suddenly too few orphans to even need an orphanage, so he had to find a new line of work.
He became a haberdasher.
The End