The Docks, Tuesday

[nofishinmypond.livejournal.com]

Jack was stretched out on a deck chair on his boat, sipping beer and fishing. It was finally spring, and he was taking full advantage of it.

...Except for all the chilly fog, which SUCKED. On the one hand, all it really meant was that he couldn't see the fish that he wasn't catching anyway. On the other... Well, from a tactical standpoint, fog was pretty good for sneaking around in. And since he wasn't the sneak-ER today, there was a little part of his mind that stayed on constant alert just in case he was the sneak-EE.

He was SO vigilant, in fact, that he dozed off.


The sign on the dock read:

Captain Jack's Wild Ride
Boat for hire, if you want it.
Half off if you feel like fishing.

Comments

[madetoosmrt.livejournal.com]

Clipity-clopity, clopity-clipity.

Hooves on wood equal fail in the stealth department.

[nofishinmypond.livejournal.com]

Jack was fully awake almost instantly. (Well, ALMOST instantly. For varying levels of almost.) He peered into the fog, trying to make out the shape on the dock. "Seriously, a HORSE?" he asked. "I mean, really, a horse? What are you doing over there, Ichabod?"

[madetoosmrt.livejournal.com]

The only response was a decidedly unhorselike screech. It sounded like a monkey.

I apologize profusely for taking so long.

[nofishinmypond.livejournal.com]

"Oh, HELL no," Jack grumbled. He pulled out his pistol and aimed it at the shape looming in the fog. "You wanna come a little closer so I can get a good look at you?"

He slowly stood up out of the chair. Although he didn't turn around to look, he mentally went over the distance between him and the locked box in the cabin that held his heavy artillery. And wondered how badly that pain in his knee that might or might not be arthritis was going to slow him down.

[madetoosmrt.livejournal.com]

"Oook." was the only answer. And a stamping of hooves on the dock. Whatever it was didn't come any closer.