35: The fisherman, his hat, and the cargo

Phaorette was at the table with Mr. Gullet, Rafaella Ellison and Grigor Xanxes.  Rafaella was in her usual legal attire that she presumably wore to bed, to the shower, and while snoozing on water rafts. Grigor wore a bow tie, pork pie hat and a shirt with some distracting diagonal stripes.

Phaorette: Well I suppose that’s why they call it Longing Lake. As soon as you arrive, you’re longing to leave…

Grigor: I thought it was because the fishing was so poor.

Gullet was offering various nuts around the group.

Gullet: Various nuts?

Grigor: [His nose scrunching up] Beyond being various, what type of nuts are these? I don’t believe I recognize a single one of them.

Gullet: I don’t know. What sort of nuts might one expect? Mountain nuts? Moon nuts? Nuts grown in cones in a tunnel under the sea?

Grigor: Hmm well. Fortunately I don’t like nuts.

Gullet: Well now you know about the nuts, in case your attitude towards them changes.

Grigor: It’s too early for attitude changes. [Looking at Rafaella] How is this happening to me? I have a lecture to give today and two papers to review.

Gullet continues to offer the nuts around.

Gullet: [Matter of factly, perhaps belying a sardonic tone] My oh my, two papers.

Rafaella: I also do not like nuts.

Phaorette: Nuts are not a thing I enjoy.

Grigor: One of the papers is an attempt to mathematically model human misery.

Gullet: Isn’t misery so dour! Grapefruit Juice?

Grigor: Worse than nuts. I can see how people would be miserable if they couldn’t even get any enjoyment from measuring the misery around them.

Gullet: Grapefruit juice goes well with nuts. But we don’t have any. Serious problems in the supply.

Phaorette: [Nodding] I heard that you know.

Some noises in the background, consisting of a loud stomping and a shrill jangling, appeared to signal the approach of more people.

Grigor: Is that a land-based whale with a bell around its neck?

Gullet: One option of many… the most likely of which is that our ride has arrived.

The noise was coming from the water side of the plateau.

Grigor: Well I am sure it will be spirited and brimmed full of pep-beans for this early morning/late evening jaunt involving whatever it involves.

Rafaella: Whatever it involves.

Phaorette: I am expecting some type of cabaret.

At this point Tedd Fudd’s head appears at the rim of the plateau, wearing a rather audacious fisherman’s hat. The hat, which had miniature fishing poles dangling from it,  seemed starkly out of character for Fudd.

Phaorette: Is that that fisher-fellow? I guess someone mentioned fishing?

Gullet: A fisherman lures many things from the lake. It’s not just all fish.

As Ted Fudd approaches, stomping greedily, Selia also comes into view stumbling beside him.

Gullet: It’s Ted Fudd, the fisherman, his hat, and the cargo.

Fudd grimaced.

Gullet: Take a seat Mr. Fudd.

Fudd: I’ll tell you straight old man. I don’t sit next to people that are likely to drool on me.

Gullet nodded.

Fudd: We need to push off.

He seemed exhausted after speaking so much, however he found the energy to turn and start trudging off.

Gullet: Selia, my dear, you feel okay back at Longing Lake?

Selia: [Nodding with some bewilderment] Um, okay, yes. Okay.

Gullet: Let’s hop on a boat then!

Rising, Fudd urged the group to start walking in a certain direction. Gullet was finger-pounding his machinery at this point as if to mark a significant event.

Grigor: [Glancing askance at Rafaella] Hurrah, let’s all hop on a boat, for some reason.

Coming to the edge the group saw a modestly impressive boat. It was white, with a pink racing stripe, and big enough to fit 20 people or so. It appeared to be fitted out for a fishing expedition. The name on the side read ‘Lovelocked’.

Fudd urged them down the stairs to a small on-ramp.

As they walked down to the ramp a swarm of moths swooped upon them.

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