Trout Tales, part two
“So back to my story,” Kilgore the Stuffed Trout continued.
“I said goodbye to my school of friends, got out of an expensive fishing-without-a-license ticket, and sailed by rented boat to the mouth of the Snarquetupple River, out to the Snaylhat Sea. This was where it made sense for a fish to have a boat! Besides the fact I don’t like saltwater, I wasn’t all too sure about the other creatures I saw down there.
For instance, a Dillimuth Octopus reached a leg up my hull – I’d never seen such big suckers! And it seemed angry, too. It lashed around, reaching for who-knows-what, and I had to fight it off with a wooden oar. Normally, I wouldn’t have been ready for something like this – but something about that pirate hat I was wearing gave me courage.
I’ll tell you, I’ll take stuffed octopus like Christine and Piper any day over the real thing!
After that skirmish, I was out on the open seas. Boy, water is almost as beautiful when you’re on top of it as it is when you’re inside it! The blue reflecting the sky, the sun and the clouds. I could have done without the seagulls, though.
The next creature encounter I had made both the suspicious seagulls and the scary Dillimuth Octopus seem like Animal Crackers, though. Far from shore, a fin appeared around the back side of my boat. “Oh no!,” I thought. “I’m a trout – I’ve never dealt with sharks before!” Two more fins appeared, making circles around me. I think I began to sweat, but I’m not sure (hey humans, what does sweating feel like? Fish don’t know. . .). I grew tense and hid at the center of the deck, trying to casually steer back toward shore. After the fins made several more circles, a monstrous head splashed out of the water and faced me:
“DON’T EAT MEEEEEE!!!” I screamed at the top of my gills.
“Hey,” the toothy, scary mouth said. It seemed strangely calm. “You’re not a pirate. You’re a stuffed animal! What are you doing out here?”
“I – I-I-I. . . I’M ON VACATION!!!” I cried.
“We thought you were a pirate,” the shark replied. “Pirates always give us treats. Do YOU have any treats?”
“L-L Like what?” I asked.
“You know,” the vicious face said, shrugging. “Caramels, or graham crackers, or blue-raspberry flavored candy canes. You know, treats.”
Almost speechless, I paused, then worked up the courage to ask: “You’re sharks. Aren’t sharks bloodthirsty carnivores who prey on other sea life?”
“Ha! You’re sure are a tourist, aren’t you! Sharks eating meat – haha! Classic. Sharks only eat sugary treats. Why do you think we’re always having to regrow out teeth?! So what’s the deal, do you have any treats for us?”
“Ummm. I have this baggy full of gummy worms. . .”
“Well, hows about sharing with your shark buddies down here? We haven’t had any treats all day!”
“Okay, I guess. I was saving them for after lunch, but I think it’s time I go back home anyway. Life in the wild is too confusing, especially in the water. Here you go.”
“Thank you, friend. And if you see any real pirates, send the m this way, will ya?”
“I will,” I said, and turned for home.
