Just before dawn, Knobby MacKinnon walked out onto the wharf towards his boat.
His family had owned lobster boats in Shediac for 4 generations, but he and Margie had only had daughters. He wasn’t any kind of sexist, but the girls were doing too well in school, and he knew they were going to do greater things.
Still, he needed help to finish the season. He’d put a in a notice with Manpower last week for an apprentice to “apply in person before 5 am”. And today, it looked like someone had bitten.
“Are you Nobby?” said the man as he approached.
“Ayuh,” said Nobby.
“Awesome,” replied the man, shivering with cold. “Very excited! Never been on a real shrimp boat.”
“Well,” said Knobby, already iffy about this prospect. “This is a lobster boat.”
“What did I say?” replied the man.
“You said shrimp boat.”
The man laughed nervously. “Well, lobsters are just big shrimp, right?”
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“No.”
“Okay. Well, couple questions. First, how many otters are on board? How many bottles of shriracha hot sauce? And, finally, let’s say, hypothetically, that a man is being stalked by a giant white lobster? How would you catch that lobster?”
“Is this a joke?” said Knobby, irritated. He was about to tell him to go home, when a gigantic white lobster suddenly jumped onto the dock, it’s claws clacking. It was easily 8 feet tall, and made a direct beeline for the stranger.
As Knobby hollered and dove out of the way, the stranger pulled out a hat made of 4 live duct-taped otters. They hissed at the lobster, making a mess on the man’s face, but it seemed to slow the lobster down.
As it reared on it’s back legs, the man pulled pulled out a bottle of sriracha and sprayed it directly in the lobster’s mouth. It roared in pain, swiped at the stranger and missed, and then dove into the water.
Knobby stood, stunned, looking at the stranger.
“Will you help me?” said the stranger.
“No.” said Knobby.
