The Time I Met the Gorton's Fisherman: Part 2
- Article by J. Evan Curry
- June 27, 2011
(read Part 1 here!)
I don't know if anyone else has ever sailed the vast space seas, but let me tell you – those space waves are mighty choppy. My stomach tossed and turned much like a child on Christmas Eve. But for all of my susceptibility to Space Sea Sickness, nothing could turn my stomach more than what the Admiral had just said to me.
“Mrs. Paul, the evil baroness of the black market frozen fish market?” I mused.
“The one and only,” came his stark response.
“What could she possibly have to gain from poisoning the Space Pope?”
“I don't know. I suspect it has something to do with – “
The Admiral was cut short by an immense explosion on the starboard side of our vessel. I spun around quickly to see an entire fleet of warships – all flying the green and white flags of the evil baroness. The flags were embroidered with what appeared to be a type of skull and crossbones, but upon closer inspection I discovered that it was a deviled crab cake, crossed underneath by two fish sticks.
“She flies the flags of war,” growled the Admiral. “EVASIVE MANEUVERS!”
It was at this moment that I realized that I had received no training in the discipline of space sailing, and was completely unaware of how to steer a giant wooden sailboat through the stars – let alone doing it while being chased down by a fleet of equally wooden space warships. It was a few moments later that I realized that I was still completely nude.
I was wholly unprepared for this venture.
Nevertheless, the Admiral had trusted me with this mission, and the Space Pope depended on us – on ME – to see it through. There was a hollow thud of cannon fire coming from the ships that chased us, and before I knew what had happened, our sails were wrapped in a clear plastic.
“Admiral, we're losing speed!” I called, pointing up at the sails.
“Blast! The dreaded freshness pouch! You'll rue the day!” he yelled, turning and shaking his gigantic fist at the pursuing ships. The Admiral thought for a second, then turned to me and said, “You have to cut it open. It's our only chance!”
“But Admiral, I have no knife!” I replied, pointing to how desperately naked I was.
“Use my lucky shark tooth!” he called to me. He then reached inside of his raincoat and pulled out an entire tiger shark and threw it to me. “Now go, Evan! Go before it is too late!”
I ran to the mast as the warships rained popcorn fish and fish-shaped nuggets down around us. Space sea water splashed onto the deck, and each step became more difficult. I finally reached the mast and began to climb. The space waves rocked the ship from side to side, and I was all but certain I was going to fall and drown in the black space waters. I shoved the fully grown tiger shark between my teeth and tightened my grip. I looked down to see the Admiral standing on the stern of our ship, knees bent, staring out at the closest warship. Before I could call out to him, he leapt out across the space sea, and grabbed hold of the chains that ran along the sides of the enemy vessel. I was then alone on a space sailboat, naked and with no knowledge of how to sail, holding a tiger shark in my teeth as I clung to a mast that was almost entirely wrapped in a plastic freshness pouch.
There may be no lonelier feeling.