"Thank you so much for the interview, King Neptune! It isn't every day one gets an exclusive with the Lord and Ruler of the Sea."
"You're welcome. I love to meet the gentle-fish of the press."
"Tell me, King Neptune, how did you come to be Lord of the Seas?"
"Six years ago I overthrew democratically elected President Fishman in a watery coup.
My legions of sea creatures slaughtered his shrimp army and he swam into exile."
"I remember. And since then you've run a brutal and vicious dictatorship."
"Thank you very much. It's good to be the king."
"I'm sure. But it's even better to be a shrimp assassin posing as a reporter!"
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Will the shrimp assassin succeed, or will he wind up smothered in cocktail sauce on King Neptune's table later that evening? That's the question posed in my Friday Fictioneers entry for the week. Ooops! Maybe the word entry (entree) gives it away a bit too much.
To feast upon the entrees of the other Fictioneers, grab some cocktail sauce, and click here.
Happy Fourth of July!
"Hey, dudes, where are we all headed?"
"Some guy named Perry Block is tossing bread into the other end of the lake."
"Forget that. He only throws stale Wonder Bread and even slathers mayonnaise on it first. What does he think, we're gentiles?!"
"Brothers, that's not it! Remember we thought the Sierra Club granola spill had wiped out all the female fish in the pond? Well, we found a female!"
"What are we waiting for, let's go!"
"She looks like a female Steven Tyler fish."
"What are we waiting for, let's go!"
"Oh, no! Perry Block is reading to her from his Halloween opus, Blogpost of Horror."
"Reverse course! Time to bottom feed."
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All right, so I shamelessly took advantage of this week's picture prompt of little fishies in the water to further promote my under-performing Halloween piece, Blogpost of Horror. Our benevolent ruler Rochelle never said we couldn't use the Friday Fictioneers for cheap and tawdry huckstering, and so I have.
I saw the variegated fish above as on their way to something special, either food, sex, or my great comedic art. Okay, so they passed on the third; what do you expect? They're unlettered fish. They've probably never even read Jane Austen (Me? Of course not.)
You should swim on upstream to feed on the entries of the other Fictioneers by clicking on the proper name below. They'll be variegated, free of shameless promotion, and for the most part, free of me and Steven Tyler!
