Nothing like this happened. Image by The Library of Congress via FlickrThe sea lapped gently at the sides of the boat. Not very exciting, I know, but such is life. For the last week, Max and I had survived in the maw of the beast, eating tinned tuna. Don't ask how.
Yesterday, we felt a jolt around noon. Well, it was probably noon. I don't know, our watches were broken, and there's little sun in the belly of a whale. So, actually, it probably wasn't noon. But I'm narrating this verbal abortion, so I'm going to say that's when it was. Anyhow...
The jolt awakened us from our slumber, sending us leaping up from our whale-tongue duvets. This was unusual, the great leviathan usually swam peacefully unless attending its Yoga class. Unleashing a great cry, the beast threw open the mouth that had housed us this past week, streaming in sunlight and sea air. We had surfaced, the beast encircled by great craft - a whaling party. A showdown so epic, so spectacular, so stunning occurred. So I won't bore you with the details.
Suffice to say, Max and I are now on a Japanese whaling craft. The crew have been very kind, giving us warm tea and a safe trip to Dover. I mean, that's what we think is happening. We don't speak Japanese, so maybe we're just going to be eaten. Who knows?