Ah, those good old Cape May days… by Jackson D’Catur
Did I ever tell you the tale of how I caught the 30-foot man-eating great white shark that was terrorizing the Jersey shore one summer? About how the struggle ended up as all great battles should, with us both naked, wrestling in shallow water, armed only with our own teeth (and I must admit, a stick of dynamite: I am all for fairness but a shark that size has approximately 3,000 times as many teeth as I do)?
I have? So you know that for an hour afterwards, pieces of sharkmeat rained down on Cape May, along with a dozen license plates, a score of gold bars, a suit of armor, three bewildered Korean fishermen and a portable battery-powered televisual set that was playing I Love Lucy on an endless loop?
I have? What about the time that atomic testing caused a hammerhead shark to grow the size of a football field and it followed the currents to just off the Point, where I defeated it only by dusting off the old U-858 submarine we took off the Huns, and torpedoing it right in the mouth, just before it swallowed a passing bus full of nuns and schoolchildren? I did? Really?
Well surely you have not heard of the hot summer back in the ‘30s, when the unseasonal record highs melted the icecap under Cape May. Oh, yes: how do you think our island floats? Magic? It bobs gently on a huge ice floe. If you don’t believe me, go to the very tip of the island, jump up and down a few times and you will feel the island wobble a little. Don’t do this if you’re morbidly obese: I will not be responsible for us capsizing. But I digress. The icecap began melting and a prehistoric shark was released. I believe it was a megalodon, but it was hard to get a good look as the surly fellow began wreaking havoc along the coast, taking a car-sized bite from the Cape May-Lewes Ferry. Have I mentioned how, using only a power cable dragged from a nearby house, I electrocuted the creature over the course of a 24-hour battle? I must say, the stench was unbearable, and sadly the damage to the carcass was too great to allow me to have it stuffed for my D’Catur Museum of Implausibilities. Wait, you know that one already? Impossible!
Well all right, since you’re so well-informed, here’s one you won’t have heard: one so terrible, so exciting, so downright enthralling I have never told a living soul for fear of causing palpitations of the heart or an unplanned bowel movement. It happened one dark night when I was skinnydipping. I suddenly- What’s that, Kitchener? Word count? Oh for heaven’s sa