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“…”
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“…”
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“…”
Are you gonna fuck–
“I’m not gonna fuck the fish.”
–that fish? It’s okay if you do.
“It is not in any way okay for me, or anyone else, to have sex with a fish.”
What if the fish wants it? Some fish are slutty.
“They’re not.”
Mackarel gotta have it.
“This conversation isn’t going anywhere interesting, is it?”
You could plug the Giants Stadium box set.
“You just did.”
If you’re not gonna fuck the fish, what are you gonna do with it?
“It’s dinner, man. Me, my wife–”
Regina.
“–and our seven children–”
Gordie, Girl Gordie, Jean-Luc, Northstar, Fleece, and the twins, Billie and Mickie.
“–are gonna chow down. Sushi Canadian-style.”
What’s that?
“You savagely consume the fish while crouching in an icy river. And there’s gotta be a fistfight over who gets the eyeballs. That’s just tradition.”
That’s a rough tradition, Dave.
“David. And, yeah. We’re a tough people, the Canadians. We gotta be: technically, where we live is uninhabitable. Humans just aren’t supposed to be this far north.”
So go south.
“Right, yeah, about that: the land we occupy is uninhabitable, but all the countries to our south are far more uninhabitable. I’m staying here.”
I can’t argue.
…
“…”
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“…”
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“…”
Stick your dick–
“We’re done.”
–in its mouth.
There’s something written, on the side of the fish!
True. Suck Me Real. Or Smuckler Blues. possibly a Mudhoney or Glenn Frey (Fry???) fan that fish was.