(sigh) It was a simple thing, really. He was swimming in circles with some fishing line tangled in his teeth, and I was there on the dock, so I fly over and pluck it out.
End of it, right? But no, he’s had a few, and now he’s all “I love you, man!” this and “Anything you want, bro!” that, and I haven’t been rid of him since. Just my luck.
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