Of Fish and Men
Alternate Ending
As Eric Jr's body grew bigger and bigger, his brain grew along with it. And as his piscine neuronal networks developed, he began to have strange thoughts.
I swim therefore I am.
To be or not to be?
That last hobo tasted like cheetos.
Gradually, as his mental powers increased, he became dissatisfied with his life in the sewers. He began to think back to the halcyon days of yore, those carefree days when he was a little sardine swimming blissfully in the tank of his childhood. Simple days when the hoboes came dried and powdered and fell from the sky, without all that messy thrashing and biting and decapitating.
He thought wistfully of his former owner. He remembered his happy smile as he dispensed the dried hobo. He wondered how he would have tasted.
He thought about his Little Mermaid House, with the smiling Little Mermaid painted on the roof. She sure was a nice piece of tail.
Most of all, he thought about his old friend, the diver. Every time Eric Jr swam around the tank, there he was with his friendly wave. Without fail. Every. Single. Time. You could really rely on a friend like that.
That's what's missing in my life, thought Eric. I need a friend. A friend just like the diver.
Eric began to search the sewers. The hoboes were plentiful but the divers were few. Further and further he searched, until one day he reached the sea. Jackpot.
Or at least, so he thought. None of the divers were quite right, though. Some waved with the wrong hand. Some had the wrong helmet. Some tried to shoot him with spear guns. But, thought Eric, as he gulped down another one, I'll keep looking until I find him. Friendship is worth the effort.
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