Season Three – Episode 27 – “Gather Your Wits”
The spring sunrise greets FSFO (Flathers and Scales Fishy Outfitters) early on day seven. One full week remaining until the first guests of the first year of fishing camp business arrive.
Rusty is NOT rested. Matter of fact—513am—He’s still sitting straight as a statue on the davenport with Tawny sleeping peacefully—Her head on his lap. Whoops!
Whoops as in…. Rusty got zero winks last night…. Rusty needs to keep his focus on the camp…. Rusty needs to remind himself what “Link” (the British puppy) stands for…. HIS soulful connection and commitment to Sally Squatsnfishes.
Finally, Professor Scale morning grumbles from his recliner. It’s enough to stir Link from the throw rug, who in turn announces a new dawn at the camp with a rousing BARK (let me out to pee).
Now it’s Tawny’s turn to roust…. Whereas she finds herself comfortably placed on the couch…. She also (quite quickly) becomes uncomfortable with her position on Rusty’s lap.
Easy solution. Gather your wits. Face the day!
Except when she did…. She stared into his face and Rusty had that cross-eyed, smirky grin going. This was enough for her to sit backbone square and proceed to punch him just below the rib cage with a right hook.
As the air left his pipes he hunched over and gasped, “What was that for?”
“For thinking anything you might not want to be thinking!” she responded. “Now why don’t you stop gawking at me and get some breakfast going. Today! And also, TODAY we’re going to build a bunkhouse with some private sleeping quarters. Priority of today!”
Short of a three-ring circus, the construction project began with an exhausted Rusty gathering tool supplies, only to watch Link snag them in his teeth and race off into the bush. Not exactly fetching—more on the taking spectrum. Huge learning curve to overcome.
Professor Scale was exactly that…. A professor. One who insisted on perfection…. Insisting that every measurement and cut be precise by exercising a “check it twice” rule.
“We’re not building the Waldorf-Astoria Hotel,” Tawny commented. “It’s a fishing camp bunk house, hey.”
Between searching the bush for missing tools (scavenger hunt) and bringing them to Tawny… Rusty soon realized her indispensable talents. Even when he brought the wrong tool, or Cos took the wrong measurement, she still had the building framed, and the walls up quicker than you could catch a pre-spawn musky during the early smallmouth bass season. For those in the know—that’s quick! (and illegal 😊) Dammit Rusty!
The pace of the Three Eagles had also accelerated considerably. They reached Wylie Bay and Pollard’s place without a hiccup. Met a dude called Dusty Lensecap (eyeglasses thicker than Coke bottle bottoms) who ran the Lock It Up surf shack. And gained access to double-top-secret intel via the Royal Australian Navy through communication with their compadres in Oh Canada.
The girls were scurried to the surfboard storage basement where they watched a two-minute clip on Lensecap’s PC before it disintegrated into flames. Some powerful ideas were shared with Sally, Ellie and Hazel.
Random unidentifiable narrator on medium volume:
Hello Eagle’s…. It’s recently been brought to our attention that our mates in Canada uncovered some smothered bones belonging to one Ophelia Clamella Barnacle.
Before you ask questions…. Please know this….
Ophelia Clamella Barnacle was the heiress to the world famous and utterly wealthy Clamella family. We’re talking about seven generations of pearl harvesters. This dynasty was built on back pain. No easy work.
And this is interesting…. Ophelia actually enjoyed getting dirty. Her great-great-great-great grandmother Myrt Clamella once dove into the throws of a stormy sea to chase a clam the size of a miniature Dachshund, and it has been reported that Ophelia would do the same. Meaning? Do anything, and we say ANYTHING to remain insufferably rich.
She was also the wife, let me correct myself, ex-wife of one Admiral Horace Barnacle, chief pilot of the Blackfin Phantom Submarine.
Now here’s where the story gets smelly… This wasn’t just some unhappy ex-wife. And certainly, not some lady that was randomly bouncing around NW Ontario and accidentally slipped into a septic tank and died.
NO—Ophelia broke ties with Horace. It’s believed she went rogue with an eastern bloc influencer. This person was a proposed double agent stationed at a top-secret freshwater research facility on Lac des Bois. This site was strictly referred to by Canadian black ops as KRKN-8. They were investigating the potential of moving Kraken subspecies through underwater fault lines connecting deep oceans to interior lakes.
YES—This means our Canadian friends were investigating schemes to get ahead of any potential Kraken infestations.
NO—With Ophelia and whomever her counterpart was (male / female) running rouge she was not chasing clams. She was chasing MONEY! Her relationship with Barnacle had gone south and so had the clam business.
YES—We also, through Ophelia and Admiral Barnacle, have been able to trace DNA samplings pinning your “Too Tall and Shorty Short” as estranged children of the unhappy couple. Seems as though they are also playing a mix in this Kraken caper. We assume Horace to be clueless as ever. We assume Ophelia to be the brains behind the beast.
Final note Eagles: there are rumors now surfacing that Ophelia and her sons were smuggling Kraken egg sacs into NW Ontario and hiding them in septic systems on remote island fishing camps.
Your next move is to surf your way off coast to join up with the flight crew on the restored HMAS Melbourne. Rusty Lensecap has your longboards prepared. From there—each of you will board an F/A – 18F Super Hornet. At Mach 1.8 which is approximately 1381mph, we can have you settled in for an evening of fresh Canadian walleye shore lunch in two shakes of a spinning rod.
Now, Gather Your Wits, do either of you three ladies have contacts in the Lac des Bois region?
With this final statement—the HP Laptop burst into flames—and so did Sally’s image of Rusty and Cosmoid enjoying their first Canadian Walleye Fishing Opener at Flathers & Scales Fishy Outfitters.
–To Be Continued—
Rusty Flathers 