Dead Fish Battaile, a short story

Inspired by today’s Maclab whiteboard images.

“The ice cube is mine!”


Gomez and Sputnik abruptly paused their mutual dead fish-fight to glare wide-eyed and menacingly into each other’s souls.

“Never! I’ll never give it to you, you….You!”

The words sliced into Sputnik’s ego as sharply as the fishbone unfurling forth into his fuzzy face. “How dare you not put in the effort to insult me properly! That’s low, you evil little…”

“Hah! Another opening!”

Splatch! The sickening crunch of dead fishmeat slapped against skull reverberated around the Arena, and for but a moment, there was stillness, and the lights flickered briefly, highlighting the globules of wobbly fish juices arcing gracefully outward from the impact.

“kusoooooouu….” Sputnik mumbled as the instant of time passed, and collapsed on top of the cube.

The Arena speaker crackled to life, booming “CRITICAL HIT” to the cheering, captivated crowd of virtual patrons. But for Gomez, there was only emptiness and a shallow feeling as the icy prize they fought for melted beneath his friends’ unconscious body.