The Fisherman Winked at Me and Made a Complicated Hand Sign
I’ve been doing it my whole life and it’s hard to stop.- and paid plenty
- the more toxin it has accumulated
- like magnified mops
- this is just how they unload timber in Canada
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The fisherman winked at me and made a complicated hand sign that told me he had spent time at the Academy. I didn’t want to talk about our shared Alma Mater. I’ve been doing it my whole life and it’s hard to stop... especially when I keep running into fellow graduates. The Hopscotch Academy exacted a toll from its alumni. I’d paid, and paid plenty, and now all I wanted was the freedom to live my life on my own terms.
“What sort of fish are you catching today?” I asked to change the subject.
“Well none anymore,” the fisherman said gruffly. “But before you came along I hauled in a whole school of Inimical Mopfish.” He opened a hatch in the deck and pointed inside. “The bigger the fish, the more toxin it has accumulated.”
I peered inside and saw a swarm of ugly gray tentacles, like magnified mops with strands as long as my arm. I struggled to keep the revulsion out of my voice. “Are they edible?”
“Hell no. But their toxin is a powerful euphoric, with only a few dozen side effects. Very popular as a party drug.”
I nudged the hatch closed with my foot. Above us the zeppelin had slowed and on the horizon I saw a rocky promontory. “Is that Disco Island?” I asked.
The fisherman nodded, wary. “No offense General, but I’m not taking my vessel to that blighted hellscape. It’s full of mimes.”
“But that’s where my brother is heading,” I said. “And I need to get there, too.”
“You look like a strong swimmer.”
Five minutes later he was lowering me into the water on the end of a large metal hook. “Don’t overthink it,” he said. “This is just how they unload timber in Canada.”
bonus points for using them in order