Rain or shine, Thursday nights were always “Fish Night Jamboree” at Hullabaloo’s Trailer Park, just off exit 76 on Highway 101.
Even tonight’s steady drizzle was no match for the cheer going on inside the tent. Corn was on the boil, and all manner of concocted fishy goodness was streaming steadily into the mouths of happy campers listening to the Hallaballeers Jug Band as they murdered the nights’ setlist of ballads, rock tunes and country songs.
And then the stranger appeared.
He was soaked clean through to the skin, in galoshes and a drooping sou’wester. (Though later recounting would say it was made of fire, it was in fact made of typical sou’wester material.)
Initially he was paid no great heed. Gretel Henderson claims she actually brought him a bowl of chowder to warm his bones. But soon a moan could be heard over the din, till even the musicians themselves stopped to gape in awe at the stranger
“Beware,” he moaned. “Ye who eat the flesh of fish! Beware the land trout, lest it consume YE!”
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And then a thunderous great trout, forty feet if it was three, crashed through the tent. People screamed as the stranger took out a harpoon gun from under his coat, hollering “DO YOUR WORST!”
The tent collapsed, and the crowd became a mad scramble of extremities fighting for exits, running to cower in their RVs. Some immediately raced out to the highway.
No trace was ever found of either the stranger, nor any great fish. Authorities chalked it up to mass hallucination, brought on by undercooked clams.
But that’s what fish cops always want you to think.
