Talk:Kraken/@comment-25799194-20141202205333/@comment-173.189.176.86-20141205175229

Well, bugger all. Just when I be thinkin' it couldn't get any worse.

I'm not quite ready to give in 'n die, but I also don't want ta waste me one bullet on whatever's out there, as the bullet may well not kill it. Fortunately for me, the island does have a couple o' coconut trees, and there's a couple o' hard, green ones on the ground.

Like any red-blooded man, I be wantin' ta liiiiiiive!!! I start pickin' up coconuts and throwin' 'em inta the mist towards where the hissin' sound's coming from. The next thing I know, I be hearin' lots o' things like, "Hey, watch it!," an' "Cut it out!" I still be a bit freaked out, though, so the words ain't quite gettin' through. As a result, I'm still throwin' the coconuts.

Suddenly, there's a bonk sound, followed by a sharp cry o', "Ow!"

The 'mist' suddenly stops bein' so misty. Instead, it turns all...inky?! Is this stuff ink?! Anyway, it falls down all o'er the place. The trees're covered in ink, the ground's covered in in, and I'm covered in ink. How'n the Davey Jones was this stuff hangin' in the air t' begin with?!

Then I notice the...well, I say lady, but it's kind of hard to really give a proper description. I mean, she sorta looks like a lady wearing a silly hat until ya get ta where her legs'd be. Once ya get there, it just gets...odd. Uncomfortably so, with all the squirming and the writhing and the tentacles. Like somethin' I saw down t' the docks, once. Feller was tryin'a sell it to me. Swore up 'n down it tasted like chicken. Di'n't want it then, an' I damn sure don't want it now. 'specially when it's attached t' a person.

Anyway, as I was sayin' before I digressed, I notice the lady...type...person. Her eyes are closed tight like, ">_<", and she's rubbin' a bump on 'er head an' sayin', "Itaaaaaiiiiiii..."

'Course, stunned as I am, I'm just sortta standin' there; covered in ink; when she opens 'er eyes again. She gets this look... You know the kind, yeah? That look yer ma'am use ta get on 'er face when she caught yerz with yer hands in 'er snuff box? Yeah, that's the one. Well, she gets that look on 'er face, yeah, an' she looks straight at me before startin' ta advance t'wards me slowly, 'er tentacles pullin' 'er along. I, defiant to the end, pull out me pistol.

CLICK!

''CLICK! CLICK!''

Wait, what the barnacles? Oh. Right. Ink's all over the hammer, the firing pin, and soaked inta the powder. Well that's just dandy. Truly, this day is NOTHIN' if not consistent in the SHITE it keeps throwin' at me.

The gun's useless and she'll see any coconuts comin' from a nautical mile away, now. But I still got one ace up me sleeve, one card left unplayed! As she continues her advance, I tense me muscles. I take a deep breath. I scream and run.

Aaaat least, that's what I try to do. Unfortunately, the instant I turn and start ta bring me foot down, things that were clearly unforseeable happen. Specifically, I stick me foot di-rectly in a puddle of ink. The ink, surprisin'ly, does not provide much purchase. Me foot slips, and the momentum of said foot carries not just it, but the other foot as well, right out from under me.

I look over me shoulder and fuckered if she isn't right there. So close I could touch 'er. Me eyes go wide with terror, an' me hands start tryin' ta pull me away. O' course, all me hands have to grab is a bunch o' loose sand and ink, so it don't go so well. And, wouldn'cha know it? As soon as one o' me hands finally gets a grip?

A tentacle wraps around me leg. I shit ye not, I COULD not make this up. That damn thing musta been as big around as me arm, an' it was STRONG. So damn strong that no matter how hard I was tryin' ta pull free, it was just draggin' me along like I was nothin'!

Oh, right, I almost fergot that part. See, after the thing grabbed me with it's noodley appendage, it just sorta turned, without nary another word, an' started movin' back t'wards the water. Now, like I was sayin', it was just draggin' me along like a rag doll no matter how hard I was a-pullin' at the ground. Me hands may's well've just been stumps fer all the good they was doin'.

So she gets ta the water, an' jes' sidles on in, pretty as ya please. 'Course, as she's draggin' me along, that means that before ya know it, I'm feelin' the icy touch o' the ocean meself. Mind ye, now, I don' mean the water's actually cold there or nothin'; it's actually quite nice normally. If, ya know, ya ain't bein' dragged down ta Davey Jones' locker!

Anywho, I'm feelin' the touch o' that water, an' I jes' know I'm bein' dragged off t' me DEATH, an' I'm screamin' an' cursin' the everlovin' HELL outta those dogs fer maroonin' me there! An' jes' as the water closes o'er me face, I manage ta get in one last, deep breath.

Nex' thing ya know, she('cause like I said, the thing was like a lady with a silly hat above the legs, right?)'s got me down in the depths. An' jest as I'm feelin' like me lungs're about ta explode, she spins me aroun', looks deep inta me eyes an'...

Well, that's how I metcher mother.

Alright, now, ya li'l snots, it's off ta bed with the lot o' yerz, 'afore the Snarly Shark gets yas!