With the Fishes

It was 10:00 in the morning and two fish walked in and sat at the bar. The bartender came over.

“What’ll it be for you two? Maybe a side of chips?” he said.

“We’ll just have some water, we’ve got a long journey ahead. Can you make them extra salty? All the water around here is super bland,” one of them said.

“Two salt waters coming right up.” A few seconds later he set two glasses of salty water in front of them. “Where are you two heading?”

The fish looked at each other. “Um . . .  upstream,” one said. The other nodded. “Yes, upstream. That’s where were going. Upstream.” They grinned at each other.

The fish were identical, and they even had trouble telling each other apart. One was name was Winston and the other Anton, and they had known each other their whole lives. When they were schooling they weren’t very close, just classmates, but now that school was out, they had decided to be travel buddies.

Anton noticed a whole bunch of minnows over in the corner. “Mmmm . . .” he gurgled. “I’m going over.”

Winston grabbed Anton’s fin. “There’ll be plenty of time for minnows later. We need to stay focused.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Anton said. “But . . . damn they look good. I can almost taste them.”

“Close your mouth Anton, you look ridiculous. We have to be discrete,” Winston said.

Just then a couple of bears came over. “We were sitting over at the end of the bar and couldn’t help overhearing that you two are headed upstream.” One of the bears leaned in really close. “Which stream might that be?” he said with stinky bear-breath.

The fish stared at the bears blankly, without blinking, scared stiff. Winston, trying to be nonchalant, said “I don’t think we mentioned which stream. But I’m sure you wouldn’t be interested – no bears ever go there.”

The bear got even closer, smelling like death. The other bear grabbed the first one and pulled him back. “Teddy, Teddy, come on. Leave the poor fishes alone. We’re in public.” Then turning to Winston and Anton, “Teddy’s a little grumpy. We just woke up. Teddy’s just a big ‘ol gummy bear, aren’t you Teddy.”

The bartender, who was a golden eagle, came over. “Do we have a problem over here?” he said, making sure his talons were clearly visible.

Winston spoke up. “It’s all good. We were just about to buy our friends a couple of drinks. What are you having?”

Both bears smiled bigly and said in unison, “Honey shots!”

“You got it,” the bartender said and slowly dripped a couple.

Just then the lights went down and stage lights came on in the corner. With no windows in the bar, it might as well have been midnight. Music began playing, and curtains opened to a stage where a dozen sexy worms were slithering on. The song was Electric Worms by the Beastie Boys and the worms began a very suggestive, choreographed writhing. They formed a pile and moved together around the stage, which made some of the wrens cackle and howl like hyenas.

The robins were a lot more discrete, sitting off in a dark corner with shades on. Then the worms slithered out of the pile and formed a chorus line across the stage and lifted their tails, or maybe their heads, into the air and wiggled them back and forth.

The energy level in the place suddenly changed and became more sinister after a big dumb largemouth bass tried to rush the stage. The worms managed to huddle off to the side just out of the way. But then a bunch of immature bluegills and perch, flung themselves at the worms in a very undignified, juvenile way, which was, honestly, a little embarrassing to everyone. It all became too much for the robins who hopped up, with no decorum or restraint whatsoever, and attacked the bluegills – and then turned to the worms.

That’s when it got really ugly. Worm parts flew all over the stage, and it became a bloody massacre, a feeding frenzy – which then attracted the attention of the sharks.         

Anton turned to Winston, “This is all going downhill fast, we need to get out of here!” They made a b-line to the door. As they slipped out, Anton looked back to see the bears charging the stage and ripping the perch and bluegills to shreds. The bartender frantically attacked the bears. “Teddy! Yogi! You long-nosed hairy lazy-ass mammals, chill the fuck out!” he screeched. Just as the door closed behind Winston and Anton, the bodiless head of the largemouth bass, still with bits of worm guts clinging to its freakish jaws, flew through the air and slammed into the door.

Outside there was a pack of wolves who had been hanging out with their bikes, smoking crack, and chasing chickens around the parking lot. But now they stormed the bar to join in the fun. They were too pumped and focused on the chaos inside to notice Winston and Anton slipping around the corner of the building.

The fish ran through the trees for a hundred yards and then jumped head first into the river. They swam and swam upstream for a mile or more, until it felt safe.

Exhausted, they got out of the water to recuperate in the shade of a big cottonwood tree on the bank. As they were catching their breath,  they saw another fish jumping and playing in the current out in the river.

“Hey, that’s Jerry!” Anton said.

“Hey Jerry! Hey Jerry!” they shouted. Jerry eventually saw them and came over, hopped out, and sat beside them.

“Man oh man, is this fun!” he said. “This current is way better than anything in the ocean.”

“Totally!” said Winston.

Anton leaned up close. “You have to be careful though, there are barbarians living in the woods. We just had a close encounter with some stupid-ass motherfuckers in a bar.”

“Oh really?” Jerry said.

“Yea, they were dumb as fuck, and totally violent. We barely escaped with our scales intact.”

“What were they, trashy Raccoons with their freaky little hands and weird obsession with fish bones? Or a bunch of psycho skunks stinking up the place with pachouli?”

“It was just everything. Think of something vile, and they were there. We’re used to being around sophisticated creatures in the ocean, but these wild things in the woods are just brutal, and too stupid to even know they’re savages. We’re lucky to be alive.”

After a pause, and changing the subject, Jerry said, “What do you think it will be like? I’m a little nervous.”

“Winston got a dreamy look in his stoic black eyes. “It’s going to wonderful,” he said. “All the stories make it sound like paradise.”

“Yea,” Anton chimed in. “It’s going to be a beautiful lake set in the mountains with snow-capped peaks all around.”

Winston got a big smile on his face. “And it’s just going to be sex, sex, sex all the time.” All three of them sat back and got dreamy looks on their faces, their gills flaring slightly.

“Mmmmm, that’s going to be soooo great,” Anton said. “I’m going to head straight for Jenny. I’ve been fantasizing about her for two year now, and I can’t wait to get her in the gravel behind some big rock.”

“It’s going to be the highlight of my whole life,” Jerry said.  Then pausing, “I hate to be a bummer, though. But no one’s ever come back from this. We don’t really know what’s going to happen. What if they’re all just fish stories? What if none of it exists and we’re just going upstream to die? I mean, why has no one ever come back? How do we know?”

“Dude!” Winston said. “It’s all true, you have to believe. Why would they lie about a lake full of virgins!?”

“Yea,” Anton said. “That would be such a crazy thing to lie about. Come on, dude.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Jerry said. “Maybe you’re right.”

Of course we’re right!” Winston said. “Come on, this is supposed to be the happiest time of our lives!”

And with that, Winston dove back in the river and splashed around.

Anton followed. “Yea, come on, dude!”

Jerry shook off his doubts and dove in too. The three of them splashed and frolicked and headed upstream together – three amigos off to get laid.

The sunshine was bright and the river was fresh, and they were in the best of moods. They bravely overcame rocks and waterfalls and all manner of obstacles, and made their way slowly up into the mountains. Maybe it was the lack of salt in the water, but Jerry, having made peace with the unanswerable questions, started doing backflips and cartwheels, and flapping his tail in the water to make a trail like a speedboat, cutting this way and that through the sparkling current.

“Hoo hoo ha ha!” he shouted as he jumped in the air.

“Looks like Jerry’s worked out his philosophical quandaries,” Winston said to Anton.

“Yea, he’s looking more like the old Jerry we’ve always known,”  Anton said smiling.

Just then, out of nowhere – Swoosh! Pow! and a wooden spear with a sharp steel tip drove straight through Jerry’s torso. Then instantly, he was yanked from the water and tossed into a large yellow plastic bucket.

Winston and Anton gasped, “What the fuck!?” Then they saw a human on the shore with a spear aimed at them too. Without even thinking they jumped out of the water and flung their whole bodies at the human. “Fuck you! Fuck you!” they shouted. “You killed Jerry! Fuck you, you ugly primate! You fucking flappy-lipped mammal!” They body-slammed the human over and over with all of their weight, and Anton dove head-first at the man’s crotch, over and over. Eventually the human slipped on a rock and fell over, hitting his head and passing out cold.

Anton walked over to the bucket and peered over the side. “Oh man,” he said with a heavy heart.

“Come on! Let’s get out of here!” Winston shouted.

Jerry lay there with his lifeless black eye staring off without any feeling whatsoever, which isn’t unusual for a fish, but he also had a big hole in his side and his gills weren’t moving. “Shit, he got Craig and Sally and Latisha too. The bastard!” Anton said.

“Come on, dude! Let’s go! It’s not safe here!” Winston fretted.

Anton forced himself to look away, and the two brothers dove back into the river – changed fish. They were no longer the innocent, carefree young fry they used to be. They had stared death in the face, and that does something to a fish. The rest of the journey now took on a more serious tone, and reaching the lake was now more of a spiritual quest than a celebration.

After a few more miles and they saw yet more evidence of how horrible humans are. They came to a huge concrete wall spanning from one side of the river to the other, and off to the side there was a ladder. As they approached they saw a sign that read: “This ladder is for humans only, fish must use the ladder in back.” And there was an arrow pointing the way. Winston and Anton hung their heads low and walked around to the fish ladder. “Humans are the worst,” Winston sighed.

“The worst,” Anton echoed.

At the top of the ladder they looked out over a vast lake. “Dam!” Winston said.

“Damn!” Anton said.

“No, dam!” Winston said.

“Dam?” Anton said.

“Dam!” Winston said. “This is a dam in the river, and this is not THE lake. It’s just here for flood control and to generate electricity – for humans.”

“What?” Anton looked at him, puzzled. “How do you know this?”

“I don’t know, probably saw it in an issue of Spawn magazine or something. I’m not sure I totally understand it, but we need to keep going. This is not part of the legend.”

They swam through the deep water to the far side where it turned back into a river again. They continued upstream where the river narrowed to little more than a babbling brook. A couple of times the stream was so filled with rocks they had to get out and walk around. But eventually they came over a crest and around a bend, and a shallow lake spread out before them, surrounded by snow-capped mountains. They could see it was totally filled with their schoolmates frolicking and having fun. It was like a giant fish orgy, just like the stories and legends had fore-told. Everywhere they looked they could see their friends having gobs of sex with each other. It was just fins and tails as far as the eye could see.

“Here we are brother, we made it!” Winston said.

“Wahoo!” Anton shouted. “Look, there’s Jenny, and Jackie, and, oh my god, there’s Sabrina! Holy shit!”

“Let’s go brother, let’s have sex with everyone, and fill this whole fucking lake with our sperm!” Winston cheered.

“Oh my god!” Anton said. “I could live here for the rest of my life!”

As it turns out, some fish stories are actually true.