floats past the camera in slow motion. Squeals and whimpers of the dying fill the air as we mow them down.
Until finally, it’s just me and the head of the Kick-Ass-Warriors-of-the-Clan-Mob-Gang. Of course, he’s a Killer Whale with attitude.
I say to him, “Guns or knifes?” Naturally, seeing as we don’t have digits on our fins, we agree to teeth.
A lengthy slow motion fight scene ensues. You’ll notice every fight scene has to be in slow motion. I mean what good is a fight scene if you can’t focus on the gore?
Anyway, we fight it out one-on-one, parrying and thrusting trying to get more of each other’s flesh between our jaws of death. He bites a section off me near the dorsal fin, and I manage to snip a bit off his tail. The water is filled with blood. Unbeknownst to us, we’re so engrossed in our fight to the death; the scent of fresh blood has attracted every shark from within a hundred miles of our location.
Finally, when we are barely able to move, because of extreme exhaustion, and loss of blood, I see an opportunity to finish him and I take it. I lunge forward and rip out his throat and he chokes to death as blood gushes down his throat. He’s floating fins up as, driven mad by the blood, my brother sharks descend on him and rip him to pieces.
Naturally, I die tragically at the hands of the amassed sharks too in a frenzy of flesh eating unparalleled in the modern cinema. The gore! The blood! Fantastic! You know a feel good story. It will be like that stupid fucking shark movie on crack.
QT‘s a genius And I should know I’ve seen every one of his movies. He and I are like this—well, never mind you get the idea.
Sorry, I’m rambling. Let’s get back to what we were talking about.
On the planet today—oh for God’s sake, I sound like some dusty old college professor don’t I? Never mind that shit.
The thing is I have this license plate off a fifty-two Dodge stuck in between two of my back molars. I’ve been trying, without success, for the past month to dislodge the thing and it hurts like a son of a bitch.
What I’m going to teach you today is how to avoid this happening to the sharks you know and love—
Oh, for fuck sakes. Where’s my agent? This stuff is shit!
What we need to do is hold school on the reef. It was good enough for me when I was a kid, so why isn’t it good enough for the kids today? I mean it’s covered in barnacles, and the fish -- yes, the fish, are delicious out there. I get a license plate stuck in my teeth because some fuckin’ dumb ass human decides to dump their old rusted car on my reef. Those of us who live and work in the ocean like to say it’s dangerous to go out there. While I say, big fucking deal. Life is dangerous get over it.
If we’re going to make a realistic movie that will educate the humans and save my ass, and others like me, then we have to show them what they’re doing. If we don’t make this meaningful then we’re fucked. It’s really simple.
But my goddamned tooth hurts. Oww!
I always wanted to be in that movie Titanic. I mean I could sing a better title song than that skinny French broad. Even that gapped tooth idiot David Letterman was in it for God’s sake. But me, no, of course not, the director says sharks don't like the cold. Bullshit!
Truth is Cameron almost cast me for the lifeboat scene. No, it’s true.
The original script had a much gorier ending. Jim (only his friend’s call him Jim), hired several of my cousins and myself to eat a few passengers. He said it would add to the picture, as the delay stuff while they waited for the rescue ships to arrive to find the Popsicle-like passengers. He said the scene was too slow, and I agree with him. This is the guy who made two Terminator movies with big Arnold ya know. Fuck it if history said the ships arrived too late to save some of the dumb ass passengers. Imagine my and my cousins ripping on to the passengers just as the rescue boats arrive? How cool would that be?
But then a bunch of dumb ass academics were alerted to what he wanted to do and they said you can’t mess with history. Apparently, they wanted some sort of accuracy. Are they fuckin‘ kidding? This is Hollywood. We make shit up all the time. Many a good war has been fixed---oops, the lawyers again. Shit! Oh well.
If I get this license plate out someday then I have a real shot at super stardom. Kinda hard to reach the big show with metal stuck in your teeth. Look at the Olsen twins. Why do you think they dropped off the radar during those so called in-between years?
Yup, you guessed it. Braces. Cute kids screwed up by metal. I sympathize completely.
Wanta know how I got the plate stuck in there? Okay. The other day, Tuesday I think—no, it was Wednesday—no, it was Tuesday—rub-the-pilot-fish- day—yeah, that’s it.
I was swimming along minding my own business, off pier seventeen, near the old highway, when all of a sudden the water is split with the largest splash I’ve ever heard in my life.
Next thing you know there’s an old car in the water sinking fast. The human inside was trapped and I watched him struggle to open the door. The cars filling with water fast so soon he’s struggling in water over his head.
The car meanwhile sinks to the seabed. I circle it waiting to see if anything edible comes out of it. It’s been kinda a slow day so far and I’m fuckin’ starving.
Anyway, the guy in the car manages to open the door, but he’s cut his hand in the process. The water is filling with blood and I know my cousins aren’t gonna be far behind. Not one to pass up a meal I move in for the kill.
So, what does the guy fuckin’ do? He has a pistol in a shoulder holster strapped to his shoulder hidden beneath his suit jacket. What does the little shit think this is Tombstone? I’m a fucking great white shark for God’s sake!
So, I move in and the guy takes a shot at me. Since bullets don’t work too well underwater he misses, but now I’m really pissed. And besides the secretion of blood has triggered my automatic response. Too bad for him.
I circle around and take a full speed run at the guy. What I’ve forgotten is the cars behind him so when I get my teeth into him the momentum carries me into the front grill of the car.
I pull back, bloody human bits hanging off my teeth and around my mouth (like in those milk commercials), but it’s too late the license plate is there and it’s not moving.
The guy’s body is torn in half and both half’s drift away in the current as I struggle to get the tin out of my mouth. I bang my head against the seaweed-covered posts imbedded into the seabed to hold the pier in place. I scrap on my belly along the sandy bottom with my mouth open hoping the sand will dislodge the license plate. This only manages to drown me in evil tasting sand that's filled with broken bottles and rotting fishing line peppered through the fine granules. It’s a wonder I don’t die.
The guy I just ate is probably wishing I did, but fuck him. He shot at me so he’s likely not a nice guy.
Nothing works to get this thing out of my mouth. I swim out to sea my tooth one big fucking sore spot.
I wonder if QT will hire me for his next movie? Samurai Shark is such a cool title. I hope so. I could use the work. And, my ocean could use the work. We need to save it for my kids and yours. Fuckin’ stupid humans you need my kind and me if you’re going to survive.
Samurai Shark to the rescue I say!
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