“Tha’ wuz gnahlee, dude!”
“Heh huh ha hee what, dude? You want to try speaking English?”
“I am speaking English, dude! My mouth’s a little numb, that’s all.”
“Just your mouth? And this is different from your usual how?”
“It was worth it, dude. You oughta try.”
“Try what? Not that I’m about to. I like being coherent when I talk.”
“Your loss. Come here. Here to this tide pool. See these?”
“Stick your tongue on the little arm-y thingys. It’ll charge up your life.”
“You want me to lick the sea anemones?? Dude, I know you were disappointed when OC dragged us all the way out here, and the only weed you could see was kelp. But this is ridiculous. Besides.
“I don’t touch anything when its name tells me to stay away.”
“Anemone. An Enemy. Get it, numbskull? And besides.”
“Again. I don’t know about you, but I was always taught to lick something my own size, not pick on the small stuff.”
“You mean they get bigger?”
“Yeah, dude. Like Portuguese Man-o’-War bigger. An anemone is just a jellyfish stuck to a rock, mistaking your tongue for something to eat and trying to kill it. You lick one of them men-o’-war and you’ll get a charge, all right. So will my credit card, to pay off the undertaker.”
“You have been hanging out with OC too long, dude. You take the fun out of everything.”
“I like it when you lug your own memory around, instead of me having to do it. I know, selfish of me …”
– O Ceallaigh
Copyright © 2007 Felloffatruck Publications. All wrongs deplored.
All opinions are mine as a private citizen.