By J. L. Ender
A torrential downpour flooded the grassy clifftop. The octopus turned the key yet again, but all the engine produced was a pathetic cough. The fuel gauge lay well below E, and no amount of glaring on the octopus’s part would make it rise.
With a defeated sigh, he glanced at the bulky camera sitting beside him. He didn’t mind the rain, but his poor camera wasn’t quite so waterproof. If he wanted to preserve the day’s work, he’d have to leave it. He patted the camera, jimmied the door latch open with one tentacle, and dropped out of the truck with a soft plop. He slithered through the wet grass, searching the dark horizon for the house he’d seen from the road.
Lightning flashed, illuminating a large farmhouse ensconced within tall, brick walls. Beyond the house, the steep drop-off to the ocean lay veiled in darkness. A cardinal-shaped weathervane on the roof spun in slow, squeaky circles.
The octopus passed under a broad arch into a tidy little garden. A gazebo stood in the center, occupied by a short, wooden table laid out for a meal. Two fat cardinals pecked at bowls of rice that steamed even in the chilly, storm-tossed air of the night. Soft candlelight illuminated their avian faces.
“Please, could I use your phone?” The octopus approached the cardinals. “I was out taking photos of the cliffs and my truck died.”
The more colorful of the cardinals jumped. He grabbed a small ax that leaned nearby, eyes wide.
“We’re quite safe, Bert.” The other bird, her feathers more brown than red, laid a calming wingtip on Bert’s shoulder. “We’re all right. It’s not the manta ray.”
“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you,” the octopus said. He held up two tentacles in a calming gesture.
The red cardinal relaxed, setting down the ax.
“You sea urchin!” The brown bird rounded on the octopus now, puffing up her feathers and scowling. “You squid my friend half to death!”
“I—what? Was that a pun? I’m not a squid,” the octopus huffed, offended. “Squids only have six tentacles. And they like cats better than dogs. And they chew their gum too loud.”
“What do you ink, Bert?” She turned to her friend. “Shell we let him use the phone?”
“I’m sure he didn’t scare me on porpoise, Mary.” Bert took a quick peck at his rice. “We would be happy to surf!” he added with a small bow. The food in his beak spoiled the effect.
The octopus seethed, but said nothing.
Somewhere in the garden, a cricket chirped.
“Guess we wouldn’t sea any harm in it,” Mary finally said. “But can you tell us who you’ll call? Be pacific!”
“I think I’m just gonna go,” the octopus growled, white-hot rage building in his three hearts.
“Oh, don’t be seal-y,” Bert said.
“We’re just sea-horsing around.” Mary giggled. “You don’t need to be so SEAnsitive.”
The octopus slithered closer, tentacles writhing in anger. One more pun, he thought. One more.
“Swimmer down! Sorry if these jokes are all washed up.” Bert shrank back a bit, obviously sensing the octopus’s growing anger.
The octopus began counting to ten in his head. Must calm down. One… two…
Mary laughed. “We use the same old routines on all you sea critters. It’s like our oh-fish-ial greeting!”
“How’s that working for you?” the octopus asked.
“It makes us laugh, that’s all we care about!” Bert pecked at his rice and pulled out a worm. “Though it has made us a few anemones.” He glanced at the octopus with a worried frown. “Gosh, I can’t stop myself even when I’m trying.”
“Can I just use your phone?” The octopus thumped a tentacle against the wet grass.
“For shore! We won’t leave you bareeft!” If Mary was bothered by the octopus’s anger, she didn’t let on. “Oh dear. I can’t seem to quit either.”
“Of course we shell let you use the phone!” Bert added.
“You already used that one.” The octopus spoke through gritted teeth, tentacles tying themselves in thick knots.
“So we did.” Bert scratched the ground nervously with one foot. “We sea that,” he added in a small voice. “We do believe in recycling…” His words trailed off in a wan chuckle.
“I’m quite uh, shore I know where the phone is.” Mary squirmed under the octopus’s unblinking glare. “Why don’t I pop off and grab the old wireless?”
“That’s fin-tastic,” the octopus said, biting off the words. “Because I was going to krill you both if you didn’t.”
Bert guffawed loudly, cutting himself off when the octopus’s frown deepened.
Moments later, Mary returned with a little cell phone clenched in one foot.
Disentangling his limbs, the octopus carefully tapped in his mother’s phone number. “No more puns,” the octopus warned the cardinals while the phone rang.
After a moment, the speaker clicked as his mother’s voice came through the line. “Oh hello, honey. How was your trip to the beach? Did you have a swell time?” She laughed at her own joke. “What shell we talk about first?”
The octopus threw back his floppy head and bellowed into the rainy night sky.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
This was very clever and entertaining. Nice unexpected ending.
Thank you!
-J.L. Ender
You should have made them mocking birds instead of cardinals. (haha)
Only you.
That would have been great! I chose cardinals since I’m from Ohio, state bird and all.
Fun fact, I named and loosely modeled them after Mary Poppins characters, which is why they’re named Mary and Burt.
Clever! And I like the insider info about Mary Poppins! We should really have an “inside the story” section as some have suggested.
Oooh, that’d be cool. I’d really enjoy a section like that.
That would be fun! I almost posted more background info but I wasn’t sure if anyone would be interested.
Hahaha, that was quite an impressive number of puns! I feel for that poor octopus (… which is a sentence I’d never thought I’d type, haha).
One shy of too many I’d say. ;-) Thanks for reading!
I wanted to throw something at you after about the seventh pun. Ha! Good job!
Haha I probably would have deserved it! I had way too much fun writing this.
I love the puns!!