Post by DEXTER RAB on Jan 28, 2016 0:36:31 GMT -5
Having been left unable to milk his family’s fortune had led Dexter to adapt. He was smart guy, he could adapt easily. Well, ok he could adapt as well as the next socialite that fell from grace. Whatever, the point was he was trying and no one should fault him in his attempts. The work orders that he could do had been done and seeing as he had some free time, he decided to invest it in a skill that could end up helping him save money: fishing. He had never fished in his entire life. Just like he had never visited scrap yard for parts or cooked for himself. But he would try. He had nothing better to do anyway. Besides, he lived near a beach! Might as well enjoy it. So there he was, making his way down an old pier, with a fishing rod and some bait.
He’d managed to pull a few strings with an actual fisherman after fixing his AC. System. Gruff, and worth his weight in sea salt, the man had shown given him lessons on the basics of fishing. Now it was his turn. He gagged at the thought, sitting down on the edge of the pier and letting his feet dangle from the edge. Dexter steeled himself, popping open the lid of the old paint can to reveal a literally can of worms. Some dead, some wriggling, but every single one of them a potential fish. He had sat for hours with the fisherman trying to get over his disgust. Only after the old man had lost his patience and taken him by the hand had he been able to bait his own line. Now it was different. He had no one to hold him to this. He hesitated holding the fish hook close. He swallowed hard sticking his hand into the bucket and pulling out a squirming word.
The mechanic gagged, coughing loudly and hurriedly pushing the damn thing onto the hook. “Oh my GOD!” he screamed standing up as the worm squirmed faster, probably an attempt to escape the hook. Fuck fuck fuck! Dexter dropped the worm and the hook shaking his head. No. he couldn’t! It was just too gross! “I hate it! I hate it! I fucking HATE it!” he hissed wiping his eyes with his other hands. But think of the potential pros. If he could do this more than once. If he could miraculously bait a hook multiple times and catch a fish he could EAT. FOR FREE. “Think of all the money you’ll be saving, you penny pinching skank…” he murmured trying to get over it. It was just a worm. A really, really gross and super slimy worm. He covered his mouth feeling another convulsion coming on. Why on Earth was he so weak? How could the fisherman do it and not him? “But sushi…” he said once more, dropping to his knees. “Godamnit.”
He’d managed to pull a few strings with an actual fisherman after fixing his AC. System. Gruff, and worth his weight in sea salt, the man had shown given him lessons on the basics of fishing. Now it was his turn. He gagged at the thought, sitting down on the edge of the pier and letting his feet dangle from the edge. Dexter steeled himself, popping open the lid of the old paint can to reveal a literally can of worms. Some dead, some wriggling, but every single one of them a potential fish. He had sat for hours with the fisherman trying to get over his disgust. Only after the old man had lost his patience and taken him by the hand had he been able to bait his own line. Now it was different. He had no one to hold him to this. He hesitated holding the fish hook close. He swallowed hard sticking his hand into the bucket and pulling out a squirming word.
The mechanic gagged, coughing loudly and hurriedly pushing the damn thing onto the hook. “Oh my GOD!” he screamed standing up as the worm squirmed faster, probably an attempt to escape the hook. Fuck fuck fuck! Dexter dropped the worm and the hook shaking his head. No. he couldn’t! It was just too gross! “I hate it! I hate it! I fucking HATE it!” he hissed wiping his eyes with his other hands. But think of the potential pros. If he could do this more than once. If he could miraculously bait a hook multiple times and catch a fish he could EAT. FOR FREE. “Think of all the money you’ll be saving, you penny pinching skank…” he murmured trying to get over it. It was just a worm. A really, really gross and super slimy worm. He covered his mouth feeling another convulsion coming on. Why on Earth was he so weak? How could the fisherman do it and not him? “But sushi…” he said once more, dropping to his knees. “Godamnit.”
490 words | @anyone | crying b/c of worms
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