A Fishing Mishap

‘Hoo-boy!’ came a the crowing from the deck above me. ‘She’s a big one!’

         ‘What’ve you got, Davies?’ I called ahead of me as I threw myself up the short staircase.

         ‘A big one, sir!’ he yelled back.

         ‘Yeah, I heard that bit,’ I mumbled to myself as I stepped onto the deck proper. Davies, my first (and only) mate, stood next to the side of the ship, a bending fishing pole in hand, and a stupid grin on his face.

         ‘What type of fish is she?’ I asked him.

         ‘A whale, sir!’ he cackled, then threw all of his focus back into hanging on for dear life. I peered over the side of the ship, trying to see through the foaming waves to see what his line was connected to.

         ‘May I suggest, Captain,’ Davies grunted, face red with exertion, we invest in durable fishing rod holders for our next voyage?’

         ‘Why?’ I asked, stepping backwards and clapping him on the back. ‘I’m not the one that has to do the fishing!’

         He laughed with me for a moment, then frowned as he realised what I’d said.

         ‘But, sir—’

         ‘Sorry, Davies,’ I shook my head. ‘Not in the budget.’

         Not if I’m gonna get that new DVD player, at least.

         ‘Aye, sir,’ he said glumly. Another yank on the line quickly pulled him out of his stupor.

         ‘Captain!’ he cried. ‘She’s fighting back hard!’

         ‘Then fight back harder!’ I told him. ‘It’s just a stupid fish!’

         Almost on cue, a giant whale shark, the biggest I’ve ever seen, leapt from the ocean in front of us with a seismic splash of water – just long enough for us to see Davies’ hook lodged in its mouth.

         ‘Hey, Davies,’ I whispered once it disappeared from view.

         ‘Yeah?’ he asked, petrified.

         ‘You remember that time I didn’t get that quality marine fabrication work near Melbourne because it, uh, wasn’t in the budget?’

         ‘Yeah,’ he whispered back.

         ‘Pray,’ I told him. ‘Just… just start praying.’

         We both let out shrieks of terror as the boat started to rock underneath us.

         So much for the DVD player.


Time to Share

After I had explained the situation to my wife and shot a few awkward, ‘everything is fine’ smiles at my neighbours, I made my way back to the centre of our estate. It was where all the shops were, and also the centre of my re-election campaign, since all the council offices were there, too. I had to be careful not to let any of my colleagues know where I was. I had told them I was feeling too sick to work today, so I can’t imagine what they would say if they saw me visiting our local energy solution providers.

When I walked into the store, the familiar bell sound chimed out, and multiple heads swung toward me. “Back again already?” The owner asked. I nodded, trying to conceal my nerves. How could I explain this to them without sounding crazy? They probably thought I was back here as some sort of trauma response to what had happened yesterday. I got them all to sit in a circle on the floor and brought a lamp over from a desk. They waited expectantly. The owner had a puzzled look on his face. “Um,” I began, my usual politician’s charm abandoned. “I have something for you guys that is going to beat the NSW Energy Savings Scheme.”

I raised my fist and waited for the pale yellow swirl in the centre of my palm to grow bright, hot red. Then, I placed it gently against the bulb of the desk lamp. Although it wasn’t plugged into any power socket, the light turned on. It glowed, brighter and brighter, until even I had to close my eyes to prevent the light from searing my retinas. When I thought I had sufficiently made my point, I removed my hand from the lamp and told the employees that it was safe to open their eyes again. Nobody said anything. They all just stared at me with stunned expressions on their faces.


The Second Explanation

The following text is a continuation of a transcript taken from BrilliantBlog49’s most recent video upload:

The thing is that I still want to talk to you guys, even though I’m overworked. I’ve been creating content for the past five years and so many brilliant things have come from it. I’ve been given opportunities that I never would have imagined I would ever get, like flying to England and meeting the Queen, or being nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize. But the truth is, that all pales in comparison to getting to read your lovely comments every day.

Rest assured that although I have hired one of the best video production companies Melbourne has to offer, I am still the one who is reading and replying to all the comments on my channel. The connection we have as content creators and viewers is one of the strongest connections on this entire platform, and I’m not just saying that. Everybody is jealous of our fandom, because it’s filled with some of the most amazing and passionate people on the whole internet.

I knew that even though I didn’t want to create my own videos anymore, I also didn’t want to say goodbye to you all. Oh, did you see that animation just now? That was actually created by the additional 2D animation company I hired. As you can see, they’re all really talented. This is the kind of stuff that’s possible when you outsource work. The quality of my videos improves exponentially because all that post production and filming stuff is taken care of, while I get to focus on what’s most important to me: talking to you all and sharing my thoughts and opinions. Nobody needs to be worried, because I’m not leaving the internet. Things are going to be a little bit different, but they’re only minor changes. I’ll still be here and I’ll still be posting videos.


About the Grout

‘I can’t believe this,’ I grumbled as I paced the length of the bathroom, phone pressed firmly to my ear. ‘I can’t believe this is happening again!’

         ‘Oh, relax,’ my wife rolled her eyes. ‘It’s not The Great War.’

         ‘It’s my The Great War,’ I scowled at her, hold music incessantly blaring in my ear. ‘They should have fixed this properly, from the start!’

         ‘It’s just a repair job,’ she sighed, settling into the empty bath like she was going to have a nap. ‘Let me know when they pick up.’

         ‘I mean, how hard is it?’ I went on, only half-realising I was ignoring her. ‘How hard is it to find someone to repair my shower grout? In the Melbourne area, for a change.’

         ‘Oh, relax,’ she scoffed. ‘That last guy was only from the outer suburbs.’

         ‘Well, maybe there shouldn’t have been a last guy,’ I frowned. ‘Maybe just the first guy should have sorted it out!’

         ‘Maybe,’ she rolled her eyes again. ‘Steve, look – you’ve got to relax.’

         ‘I am relaxed,’ I fumed.

         ‘No, I mean actually relax,’ she smiled at me. ‘Look around! This bathroom has been perfect for us.’

         I did as she said, taking a deep breath and letting my eyes wander around the room.

         ‘I guess,’ I muttered.

         ‘No need to guess! Do you remember how hard it was finding a company that designs bathrooms for disabled people?’

         ‘All the more reason why it should be fixed.’ 

         ‘Oh, one of the tiles fell off,’ she shrugged. ‘That happens to every bathroom.’      

         ‘What if she’d been in the bath?’ I countered. ‘And we didn’t know a tile had fallen on her?’

         ‘It didn’t fall out over the bath!’

         ‘But it could—’

         ‘Well, that’s insane,’ she laughed. ‘You sound insane.’

         ‘Someone has to care!’

         ‘Woah, woah, woah,’ she climbed out of the bath, all traces of laughter gone from her eyes. ‘We both care. But you,’ – she stuck a finger in my face –, ‘don’t get to throw a hissy fit and call it caring!’


Neighbourly Plumbing Emergency

‘Well,’ I shouted over the roar of the escaping water, ‘at least we’re going to have an interesting day.’

         ‘Shut up, Ronald,’ my coworker glared at me from behind the leaking pipe. ‘This is your fault!’

         ‘I’m sorry?’ I frowned. ‘Run that one past me again?’

         ‘I told you we needed to get the hot water system looked at!’

         ‘Jenny, you’re right,’ I said, feigning horror. ‘And I am the only person here who has their own mobile phone!’

         ‘It’s your job!’

         ‘What is?’

         ‘Fixing things, calling plumbers,’ Jenny gestured vaguely. ‘Stopping our house from flooding.’

         ‘Is that so?’ I scoffed. ‘Just out of curiosity, how far am I supposed to offer look for someone who offers plumbing services? Across Melbourne, or just our suburb?’

         ‘Don’t be smart with me!’

         ‘Don’t be condescending with me!’



         ‘Uh…did somebody need a plumber?’ came a timid voice from the doorway.

         We both whirled our gaze on him in an instant, our mild-mannered neighbour with a friendly face and a box full of tools.

         ‘What?’ my coworker frowned. ‘I mean, yes, please. Hi. Who are you again?’

         ‘My name is Kyle, I work next door,’ he said, clearly still nervous. ‘I saw the water outside, and I thought I’d just…’

         ‘Thank you, Kyle,’ I said through a strained smile. ‘We appreciate it.’

         He nodded at me, the mood somewhat thawing, and waded into the room.

         ‘It’s a big one,’ he whistled.

         ‘Do you work for a company that does hot water repairs in the Melbourne area, Kyle?’ my wife asked him, innocently enough.

         ‘Uh,’ Kyle said, nervous again. ‘I guess? It’s just me and my dad, so—’

         ‘Next door!’ my coworker erupted, shoving a finger in my face. ‘You literally couldn’t find a qualified plumber if you lived next door to one!’

         ‘You also live here!’ I shot back. ‘Heaven forbid you ever talk to the neighbours!’



Proud Boat Owner

I would call myself a pretty experienced sailor. I grew up on the water, since my family owned several boats and fishing has been part of my family for decades. Each summer we would go out onto the water and enjoy a few beers while watching the sun go down. It was total bliss.

Now that I’m old enough to have bought my own boat, I’ve started noticing just how important it is to keep it in good shape. I spent a lot of money buying the boat, a bit like an investment. It only makes sense that I ensure my investment is in the best possible condition at all times. One of the ways I did this was by hiring an expert to complete a boat catch installation. These are nifty little contraptions that have really become quite popular over the past few years due to their ability to streamline the launching and docking processes of boats. All it takes is the click of a button, and my boat is launched faster and easier than I could ever hope to do myself. It saves so much time and hassle, and it was ultimately a very affordable way to upgrade my boat.

It was much cheaper than hiring one of the best marine fabrication companies Melbourne has to offer and getting them to undertake a full refit of the boat. While that would have been a brilliant option, it was costly and time-consuming, and I really don’t enjoy being away from my boat for too long – especially when I can’t see where it is. I know they’re experts, but this boat really is like my baby, and I want to ensure whoever is with it is taking good care of it. The boat is almost a decade old now and it’s still working perfectly. I attribute that to my careful eye and passion for taking care of my boat. Maybe soon I’ll even do a repaint of the boat!


The Designer Office

I entered the decal shed with a huge smile on my face. I couldn’t let them know that I was a pirate, so I had to do away with my typical brooding thief demeanour and replace it with a more palatable version. I had to convince them that I was a good, upstanding member of society rather than someone who stole from those good, upstanding members of society. It seemed to work.

I was welcomed into the store with a pleasant greeting and handed a pamphlet filled with information about the best boat wrap vinyl ideas. There were plenty in there – thousands, in fact. However, I came here to get my face in good quality vinyl, not some random image of a fish. When it was finally my turn to speak to the head designer, I was called to his private office, away from the hustle and bustle of the rest of the workshop. The door closed behind me, enveloping us in a cool, quiet room. The designer was a man who appeared to be middle-aged; he had a bristly black beard and lines beneath his eyes that showed he spent a lot of time outdoors. I could still smell the salt of the sea on him, and it made me instantly warm to the guy.

He explained that he was the head designer, and he could design everything from regular sailboat print, to aluminium boat wraps, and wraps for tinny boats. There were a lot of options, and he went through them all patiently and answered the questions I had. Of course, I was still posing as a general sailor, so I couldn’t be too specific about how much damage my boat tended to incur, otherwise it would be suspicious. I vaguely stated that I tended to sail on the high seas more often than not, and spent a lot of time on my boat, so it would likely be exposed to ocean conditions a lot more regularly than most other fishing boats would be. The designer man nodded.

Home Builders

Home Building Candidates 

I dangled my feet over the edge of the cliff, watching the sun slowly set over the boundless horizon. A flock of gulls drifted lazily along the surface of the ocean, occasionally dipping beneath the waves to snatch a fish.

         ‘Superb!’ I chortled, taking a sip from my flask.

         ‘Sir!’ came a choked gasp from below me. I frowned and looked down to see Ivor, my venerable assistant, struggling to climb the last few feet up the side of the mountain.

         ‘Ah, Ivor!’ I clapped. ‘Have you returned with my prospective architects?’

         ‘Yes, sir. I just need you to move your feet so I can get past—’

         ‘Fine,’ I rolled my eyes, lifting them up and off their comfortable perch ­– Ivor’s head, as it turned out.

         One by one, a small group of men finished the ascent, and began scoping out the top of the cliff with notepads.

         ‘These are the new home builders for hire on the Mornington Peninsula?’ I asked Ivor. He nodded enthusiastically.

         ‘They sure are, sir.’

         ‘That man isn’t wearing a shirt, Ivor,’ I muttered.

         ‘Well, it was warm when we started climbing, sir,’ he said nervously.

         ‘You there!’ I called to the shirtless man. ‘Yes, you!’

         He trundled over, pencil tucked behind his ear, frown on his face. ‘How’s can I helps ya?’ he asked, then spat over the side of the cliff.

         ‘I’m just curious,’ I began with a tight smile. ‘Would you describe yourself as belonging to a firm of, say… luxury home architects?’

         ‘I’m whatever you need me to be,’ he shrugged, hocking up another ball of spit.

         ‘Charming,’ I frowned, watching it sail down to the ground. ‘I’m afraid I’ve decided to go with a different company for this particular endeavour.’

         ‘Who?’ he frowned. ‘Pauly?’

         ‘I don’t know who—no,’ I cut myself off. ‘Not Pauly.’

         ‘It’s a shame,’ he shrugged. ‘Pauly is good people.’

         ‘Good to know,’ I said through gritted teeth. ‘Ta-ta now. Safe travels.’

         ‘Ivor,’ I hissed, once the man was gone. ‘Exactly who are these yokels you’ve brought to me?’


Husband Loves The Decals

As soon as my husband got home, bless his kind soul, he came straight into our bedroom to check on me. He sent me multiple texts throughout the day which was very sweet of him and I could tell that he was eager to get home to be with me. When you’re in love, you don’t want your person feeling sick. It makes you feel sick. He was checking in on me just as much for me as he was for himself. Does that make sense? I’m not sure. I’m still sick.

Anyway, as soon as I was able to establish that I was alive enough for him not to worry too much, I asked him what his thoughts were on getting flower wall decals for our bedroom. I’m sure you would remember the dream I had, which I spoke about in depth in my last blog. My dream was bright, colourful and happy. It made me feel at peace which was really needed because I feel so incredibly sick. It was nice to have some sort of relief even if just for a moment and that’s why I want to decorate our room with flowers. I like the vibe that they bring to a space and I really like feeling happy and healthy at all times. It would be good to choose some flower wall decals for our room because they will do just that! Am I rambling again? Yes. Blame my illness.

Anyway, my husband was super excited about the idea! He said in addition to adding flower art to our walls, he’d love it if he could choose his own wall decal design. Melbourne decal designers are few and far between but the lady who has created the flower wall decals that I love also has a large range of other wall decals to choose from! I said he’s more than welcome to choose whichever decal he likes.


Steeling A Lunch

‘Woah, woah, easy there, sunshine!’ my foreman yelled out, ducking under a girder that was being slowly lifted onto the scaffolding. ‘Where do you think you’re going?’

         ‘Me?’ I asked, pointing at myself.

         ‘You see anyone else around here?’

         ‘Uh…’ I frowned, glancing around at the hundred-odd other people around us. ‘I guess not?’

         ‘Good guess,’ he said, arriving next to me, mildly puffed from his walk. ‘I need you on a job.’

         ‘I was just taking lunch—’

         ‘Not anymore,’ he snatched my brown paper bag and threw it off the side of the building. ‘You’re with me.’

         ‘What the heck?’

         ‘Look at this steel,’ he said abruptly, pointing at the girders. ‘Do you think the people who make this incredible product take lunch breaks?’

         ‘The steel fabricators?’ I frowned.

         ‘They’re not just “the steel fabricators”,’ he mocked me. ‘They’re the best steel fabricators around. Melbourne is built on the backs of their steel!’

         ‘Riiiight,’ I nodded, slightly concerned by how wide his eyes were bulging. ‘And why does that mean I don’t get lunch?’

         ‘Because I need you to pick up a shipment for me.’

         ‘I’m not a driver,’ I protested. ‘I barely know how to drive!’

         ‘Really?’ the foreman frowned, pulling a piece of paper out of his pocket. ‘Because your resume says you hold three classes of licence and worked as a truck driver on four construction teams in the last—

         ‘Ohhh, that kind of driving,’ I interrupted nervously. ‘Why didn’t you say?’

         ‘Anyway…’ he smiled thinly. ‘I need you to collect a shipment of steel beams from Melbourne.

         ‘Fine,’ I sighed. ‘At least let me take someone to help load the steel.’

         ‘Your resume also says you’re a three time Mister Olympiad, able to lift more than six times your own body weight.’

         ‘Alright, alright,’ I snatched the paper out of his hand. ‘Everyone lies on their resume.’

         ‘Not like that they don’t,’ he chuckled. ‘Take Stevens – and don’t drop my steel!’