To add insult to injury he picked the WORST train
Moby Dick, or The Fish
(500 pages into the story)
It was the mildest of warm nights the night before last. Warm enough to make any Godly man think of spring, and extend kindness to his fellow beings on this planet. For it is a rugged and cursed man who can be iron hearted in the face of such a warm and pleasant evening. Men such as these are found, but that will be expanded more fully later in this tale. The breeze gusted from the north with enough force to keep away the mosquitos, those heathens of the southern seas that man from the Americas was not made to withstand, at bay. It must be that they are blown inland, to tend their nests in the murky bowels of the rainforest and leave good sailors at peace.
During this pleasant evening our entire countenance was focused on one preoccupation – catching the small brown fish! Such a fish – it is called ‘snapper’ by the common fisherman and I see no need to Google it’s scientific name. For what can the experience of scientists in their labs and coats without a specimen in sight tell us in comparison to the experiences of real fisherman!
(skip forward 2,000 pages)
At last we had the beast on our cutting board, ready for the slaughter. (Though I should not call us slaughterers since our pursuit was wholly noble and without any barbarous men present). In order to present it’s true length we placed a Metrocard on the board to photograph the specimen – knowing that this would be a memory worthy of sharing with all interested parties, children and grandchildren to be sure! Immediately after the photo, as the shutter slid back in place with the reassuring click these devices have the mischievous subject, our snapper supper, up and jumped on the J train toward Brooklyn!
The End
pg. 2,511
