The other day I was driving in downtown Atlantis. My Barracuda was in the shop so I was driving a red Stingray, and it was overheating. So I pulled into a shell station. They said I'd blown a seal. I told them to fix it.  While I was waiting, I read several chapters in my new book, "The Porpoise-Driven Life."  That book is really making a sea change in my life.  I had heard about how deep it was and couldn't wait to dive into it.

After that, I went across the street to the Oyster Bar - a real dive. But I knew the owner, Gill, 'cause he used to play for the Dolphins. I said, "HI, GILL!" You have to yell, he's so hard of herring. So I gullied up to the sandbar, ordered a peanut butter and jelly fish sandwich. I was feeling good. I even dropped a sand dollar in the box for Jerry's Squids, just for the halibut.  I noticed several tables of card sharks.

Well, the place was really crowded.  It smelt terrible.  We were packed in like sardines. They were probably there to hear the Big Band sounds of Tommy Dorsal. He was rockin' the place with a very popular tuna: “Salmon-chanted Evening,” and the stage was surrounded by screaming groupers - probably there to see the bass player, or the fiddler. Well, one of them was this cute little angelfish, and she's givin' me the walleye.  I didn't want to make any waves, but I figured this was my chance for a little fun, so I used my usual bait.  It worked, but she said things I just couldn't fathom, she was too deep - seemed to be under a lot of pressure.  Plus, she drank like a fish.

Then she gives me that same old crappie, "Not tonight, I gotta haddock."  And she wasn't kiddin' either, 'cause in walked the biggest, meanest lookin' haddock I'd ever seen come down the pike. He was covered with mussels and probably topped 300 lbs. on the scales. He said, "Hey, shrimp, don't you come trollin' around here." I said, "Abalone, you're just bein' shellfish.  I'm going to knock you off your perch." Well, I could tell there was gonna be trouble and so could Gill 'cause he was already on the phone to the cods. The haddock hit me with a sucker punch. I then landed him with a left hook. He eeled over.

It was a fluke, but there he was lying on the deck flat as a mackerel.  I didn't even have to use my swordfish.  I said, "Forget the cods, Gill, this guy's gonna need a sturgeon." Well, the angelfish was pretty impressed with the way I landed her boyfriend.

She said, "Hey, big boy, you're really a game fish. What's your name?" I said, "Marlin." After that we had a whale of a time. I took her to dinner. I took her to dance. I even bought her a bouquet of flounders.  She fell for me hook, line and sinker.

I told her about my new book, "The Porpoise-Driven Life."  She said she had heard about it at school, but that it sounded fishy to her.  I told her its truths had become an anchor for my sole, that she was just being a crab, and to clam up.  She then gave me a sockeye, and it still hurts.