Fishing

Sheriff Brown and Dr. Allen sat on the banks of Claire Creek fishing. Well, not so much fishing as drinking, while their poles rested on a pair of rocks at their feet, lines dangling in the water. Sheriff Brown dropped his empty can of Guinness back into the cooler and pulled out a fresh one, his fifth, the Doctor was still working on his third. He opened the can, smiled at the whoosh of nitros being released as if it were the sound of lullaby, took a long pull, whipped his mouth and cleared his throat…

“So this rabbit was eating his girlfriend’s pussy, right.” He opened.

“Rabbit’s have girlfriends?” The doctor seemed truly intrigued.

“They don’t?”

“Good point.” He conceded.

“So anyway,” the Sheriff began again, slightly annoyed by the interruption of his monologue, “This rabbit was munching on his significant other, when…”

“Does he have a name?”

“Who?”

“The rabbit, of course.”

“Peter.”

“That’s original.”

“Do you want to hear the joke or not?”

“I don’t recall asking to hear it. The least you could do is put some imagination into it.” The doctor was having a particularly good time watching the Sheriff’s level of irritation rise.

“Fine, his name is Cassius.”

“Cassius Rabbit, I like the sound of that.”

“I’m happy for you. So Cassius Rabbit is eating out his girlfriend…Venus.”

“The goddess?”

“The rabbit you twit!”

“Oh, right.”

“So he finishes up the deed, sits back on his haunches, looks down at Venus lying there all glassy eyed, and says…”

“You’ve got one!”

“What?”

“You’re line, it’s hooked, you’ve got a bite!” The sheriff looked down to see his line pulling down stream faster than the current. The reel started unwinding, making the sound every fisherman lives for. In Heaven, a chorus of angels will spill forth from their divine voice boxes an unending serenade of the sound of fishing reels unwinding, harmonized by the faintest hint of tail-fins splashing against the water for every fisherman beyond the pearly gates. Of that Sheriff Brown had no doubt as he rushed forward to grab hold of his pole and begin the fight for supremacy with his scaled adversary. Dr. Allen stood at the ready with the net, prepared to secure his friends victory.

“Careful now, give him a little play, you don’t want to jerk free.”

“Yeah, I taught you to fish, remember?”

“You did not.”

“Oh, o.k., I suppose I didn’t fix you up with your wife either.”

“Now, I know you didn’t do that.”

“Are you serious?”

“Just pay attention to the fish.”

“I’ve got the fish, you just keep the net ready.”

“I’m ready, just easy does it.”

“I- here he comes, oh he’s a big one, just a little…bit…more…and… Get it! Oh, he’s beautiful. He’s gotta be fifteen pounds!”

“Well, eight anyway.”

“Ten it is! You clean him, I’ll fire up the barbecue.”

“How am I the one cleaning him?”

“You’re the fancy doctor with all them surgical skills.”

“I’m an E.R. internist, I don’t do surgery.”

“Alright, ya big baby, I’ll clean him, you fire up the grill.”

“That’s better. So what ever happened to that rabbit?”

“What rabbit?”

“Never mind.”