Youre A Giant Squid. Can You Fight And Defeat A Boat?

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Ahh, the ocean.

What a lovely place to be.

You bask in the cool waters of the ocean, spending your whole days saying Ahhhh. Sometimes, when you love being in the ocean so much, you even throw a few extra Hs in there, and say Ahhhhhhhhhhh. You do this for a few weeks, until suddenly, a thought occurs to you:

For the first time in your life, you contemplate your existence. You look around, and notice that compared to you, everything else is tiny. You begin to feel an overwhelming sense of pride. Of all the things in the ocean, you are the biggest.

Yes. You are a giant squid. This is what you look like.

You think about what a beautiful squid you are.

Wow oh wow, you think to yourself. Good squid. Handsome squid.

You love to be a giant squid!

You are a beautiful squid. You never fight a boatyou never even see one. You spend the rest of your squid life relishing in your squid beauty.

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Youre right. You are essentially a hotdog with limp noodles hanging from you. You are horrible to look at.

You thrash your disgusting tentacles around in the water until you tucker yourself out. All the movement creates a minor tsunami, killing 40,000 people in Japan. You take heart in knowing that while you may not be the best-looking thing in the ocean, you are certainly the biggest. You feel a bit better.

You take heart in the fact that while you may not be the best-looking thing in the ocean, you are certainly the biggest. You gleefully swirl your hideous tentacles around, knowing that true beauty lies within. All the movement creates a minor tsunami, killing 40,000 people in Japan. You feel amazing.

Now that you know what you are, youre ready to do what a giant squid does best: swim around the ocean looking for things to conk your head on. You want to conk your giant dumb squid head against everything until your basal ganglia fall out and you die. You cant help itsuch is your nature.

You begin to repeatedly smash your head into the sand at the bottom of the ocean.

You smash your head into the sand some more. God, its good.

Suddenly, a shadow passes over you.

The pit youre bashing into the sand grows larger and larger, and you hear something deep inside you start to rattle.

Smash smash smash, you sing to yourself.

Smash and conk, conk and smash.

To me now it is time for smash and also next week.

Conk squid head on government holiday.

No day off for squid of me.

Smash supreme.

This song has no real rhythmic pattern or structure to speak of, but it makes you happy to sing to yourself anyway.

You give your enormous squid head one last smash and fully dislodge your basal ganglia, dying on the spot. The Italian Coast Guard fishes your dead body out of the sea and turns you into calamari for its Michelin-starred Italian Coast Guard restaurant. It doesnt batter and fry you, so customers are kind of underwhelmed. In a scathing review, a critic writes that your texture leaves something to be desired.

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You look up, and see a dark object passing overhead.

Thats a boat. According to international sea law, there can only be one boat in the ocean at any given time. This is the one and only boat thats in the ocean.


You swim up to the boat to get a closer look at the boat. From down below, it looked small, but now that youre closer to the surface

Unfortunately, its true: This boat is big. Its husky. Its curvy all over. It is, in fact, the one thing in the ocean thats bigger than you.

Feelings of inadequacy flood you as you realize that youre tiny little peanuts compared to the boat. Your self-esteem plummets. How could you have ever taken pride in being the biggest? This boat is so much bigger, and it doesnt even seem like its trying. Its effortless. How does it do that?

You berate yourself for ever thinking you were anything special. Now that youre looking at it, you notice that the boat also has a beautiful wooden undercarriage. Of course it does. This boat has everything.

The boat floats there, continuing to be big, taunting you with its general largeness.

Good boat. Big boat. You compliment the boat.

The boat just floats there, ignoring your compliment.

Bad boat. You say to the boat, pointing to it with your tentacles.

Big squid. Pretty squid. You lie, pointing to yourself.

The boat just floats there, completely unfazed.

You break off a piece of coral and put it on top of your head, like a fashionable hat.

Trs chic, you explain to the boat.

You swim around below the boat, giving it a view of your fabulous coral hat from all angles. The boat continues to bob on the surface, unimpressed.

Suddenly, something falls into the waterits a craft services table full of finger foods. You hear an uproar coming from above the water as deli meats and sliders rain down all around you. There is no doubt about it: The boat is hosting some sort of lavish Hollywood movie shoot.

The boat has upstaged you once again. No one has ever hosted a lavish Hollywood movie shoot on you.

Your gills burn in shame as you rip off your coral hat in disgust. How could half-rate coral ever hope to hold a candle to a checkered plastic tablecloth and cubed cheese platter? Youll never impress a boat that big.

The boats engines start up, and it begins to move. You hear the laughter of Hollywood elites as it speeds off toward the horizon, mocking you.

Emotions bounce around inside you. You feel them all: anger, fury, madness, bad feelings, the grumblies, and red pain. You feel a few extra ones, too: hot hot heat, nausea of the brain, OCallahans folly, and the grumblies (lite).

All these disparate emotions are too much for your squid body to handle, enormous though it may be. You need to do something to blow off steam.

You try to calm down, but its to no avail. Emotions are bouncing around inside you, like a bunch of air hockey pucks on an air hockey table. You feel them all: anger, fury, madness, bad feelings, the grumblies, and red pain. You feel a few extra ones, too: hot hot heat, nausea of the brain, OCallahans folly, and the grumblies (lite).

All these disparate emotions are too much for your squid body to handle, enormous though it may be. You need to do something to blow off steam.

Well, well, well. You thought you could use therapy to fix your feelings? News flash: Therapy is expensive. You cant afford therapy. And even if you could, it doesnt work. At all.

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You swim after the boat, tentacles curled into tentacle fists. Youre going to fight this boat, and whats more, youre going to win. You can feel it in your skeletal support system: Defeating this boat is your destiny.

Well done! You chose to fight the boat and lose, and you accomplished your goal perfectly.

As you were swimming after the boat, it occurred to you that your anger was probably misplaced. It wasnt the boats fault that it was so big and so fastit couldnt help it, the same way you couldnt help being the second biggest and second fastest. Also, it was going much faster than you. You couldnt keep up with it. But mainly the first thing.

To fight a boat like that, hypothetically speaking, youd probably need a pretty strong motivation.

You check out the boats wake, and what do you know, its absolutely enormous. Just more confirmation that this boat is better than you at everything. Do you hate it, love it, or just want to be it? Its hard to tell.

You notice that pages of what look like a script for a lackluster movie sequel have flown off the back of the Hollywood boat, mixing with the deli meat in the water. If only you could read.

It would take too much time.

You go belly-up, pretending youre not the second largest thing in the ocean, but rather, a neglected house fish. You imagine an indulgent life of eating pellets until your owner goes on a six-day wellness retreat in Tucson and leaves you to slowly starve to death.

Wish dead, you think to yourself, dramatically. Wish never born.

You sigh loudly, hoping to elicit sympathy from a passing pelican.

Any life better than this life, you groan. The pelican appears to be unmoved.

You swim through the ocean, trying to move on from the whole boat incident.

Oh god. Oh what the hell. What is that thing?

One time I went above water and got stung by a million bees! the creature says.

Makes sense.




Oh god, its some turtle. He looks like the kind of guy to really talk your ear off about about all his lame hobbies.

You pretend not to see the turtle. This doesnt work, mainly because your eyes are enormous.

You open your squid beak to say hi, and a loud screech emerges. EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE, you bellow, sending a high-pitched sound all the way to Japan, rendering anyone on the beach who was still alive completely deaf.

Hey there. Want to hear about my many fascinating hobbies? the turtle asks.

You open your squid beak to say no, and emit a second high-pitched EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE, deafening any living person in Japan who had just arrived at the beach in the past 30 seconds.

The turtle interprets this as an unequivocal yes.

This is one of my favorite things to collect, the turtle says. I love it because it has six holes, which reminds me of the six ways that turtles have sex: shell on, shell off, shell to the side, in public, underwater, and threesome.

You frantically search the ocean for something to conk your head against. You see a North Korean missile floating by, and an oil rig doing some deep-sea drilling.

Of course, sometimes I encounter a plastic loop that has been cut through each hole, and then I cant grab on to it, and that makes me sad, the turtle drones on.

You conk your head on the North Korean missile, and hear a tinny speaker deep inside the missile activate: Mount Rushmore is overrated! says a voice in Korean, which you just now realize you understand perfectly. The missile floats innocuously away.

If I could invent a new way for turtles to have sex, it would be while smoking a cigarette, the turtle says. They dont let me invent those kinds of things, but if they did, thats what I would invent. I just thought you should know.

The oil rig immediately explodes, cascading the annoying sea turtle in sticky black oil.

I seem to be dying from sludge now, says the turtle. I only got to do two of the ways turtles have sex, but thats pretty good, considering there are only six total.

That worked incredibly well. You are free from the annoying turtle.


You swim down, down, down.

Down some more.

Getting pretty dark now.

A voice echoes out from the distance. Its a submarine, which is like a boat, but different, legally speaking.

Hello, the submarine voice says.

Well, hello there, giant squid! Im TVs James Cameron, says TVs James Cameron. Im in the Mariana Trench right now because this is where I go when Im feeling happy. You see, I love the new movie Im filming: Titanic 2: Titanic In Japan. Ive got a great cast and a great crew, but most of all, I have an amazing and talented boat thats the star of my production! The movie wouldnt be possible without the boat, which is why I love the boat oh-so-much. Its just great! Things sure are looking up for James Cameron.

You fall head-over-tentacles in love with James Cameron, Hollywoods hottest and most eligible divorcee.

Okay! And I love the boat!

James Camerons submarine takes a nosedive and disappears even deeper into the trench. Hes so dreamy. Maybe if you can think of a way to get the boat out of the picture, then he would focus all his attention on you instead.

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