"This is so boring!" I groaned as I laid spread out on the dock. Con was still sitting on the edge of the dock fishing and whistling some repetitive tune.

"Nonsense, fishing is fun." He said cheerfully before he continued his incessant whistling. He was actually enjoying himself! I snorted in disgust.

"Con, we've been here for hours, and we haven't even caught anything worth while!" I whined.

"Well, you can't expect to catch anything with your pole laying down like yours is. Besides, you must have caught like four fish! Why didn't you keep any of those?"

"They were all so small. I was hoping I would be able to catch something a little larger."

He smiled at me and sighed. "Bree, that's as large as these lake fish get. I could have told you that you weren't going to catch anything bigger. Now all the ones you let go have gone and told their buddies not to eat the blue stuff. You have effectively ruined my fishing for today."

"Maybe now would be a good time for the red bait then?" I teased. Con turned and frowned at me. He had not gotten a single nibble while he used the red bait. After about forty-five minutes, he gave up and started using blue bait again. Unfortunately for him, he still wasn't getting any bites.

"Con. Please. I'm in danger of dieing of boredom here. Can we just go?" I pressed.

"I'm sorry Bree but my rule as a fisher is that I have to catch at least one fish per trip. As soon as we get a fish in the container, we can go." He reasoned.

I looked over the small blue rectangular container set behind Con. It sounded like a way out.

"So let me get this straight. Either of us gets a fish in that bucket and we get to go home. Is that correct?"

"That's the plan." Con smiled. I cracked my knuckles.

"One fish coming right up" I mumbled as I pulled the container full of blue bait to me. I pulled out a pinch of blue bait and placed in the water very close to the dock. I got up on my knees and watched the water closely. I saw the image of a fish cautiously approaching the surface where the blue bait floated. I eased my hand closer to the water and waited. The moment I noticed the fish shooting towards the bait my hand darted to the area beneath the bait and clamped. Sure enough I felt the smooth and slimy figure squirming in my hand. I snatched the fish out of the water, but the damn thing was so . . . alive and kicking, that at this rate I was going to lose my grip and lose the fish. I slammed the fish on the dock. It landed with a solid "whop" sound that caught Con's attention. He stared at me with a confused look on his face while I lifted the now dead fish into the blue container for fish.

"Did you just catch that with your hands?!" he asked. I shook off the lake water and turned to him.

"Yep, so that's one fish in the container, so I believe it's time to go now."

"Are you kidding me?! We can't go now."

I sighed heavily. For a guy as nice as Con was, he was really starting to get on my nerves. One thing I hate more than pirates is bad deals.

"Con, you said we get a fish in the bucket and we go home. The fish is in there, but I don't see you packing up your stuff!" I said agitatedly.

"That's because that fish doesn't count, Bree. You caught it with your hands! If we're going to fish, we're going to fish with dignity." He authoritatively as if his point was final.

"We had a deal Con! This is a complete waist of time! I could not care less about you and your little fishing dignity! Either take me home or I . . ." I built up in and enraged fury, but then I stopped because Con had begun his whistling again. It was definitely louder than normal.

That star shugging packer! He thought he could just whistle away his problems hmm? Well let's see how great he whistles when his precious V6 engine is droning him out. I stomped over to his V6, which he had stupidly left the starter in and snapped it on. The powerful machine hummed to life and began the standard hovering. I straddled the V6 and slammed on the accelerator. It zoomed me past Con and over the lake. Con's eyes followed me, as he sat in silence completely dumbfounded and not fully comprehending what he was seeing . . . then he screamed.

"Bree! What do you think you are doing?!"

"Having fun!" I called back. I let out a whoop of exhilaration and shot past him with my hands in the air.

"Stop! Stop it right now! Oh my word! If you wreck my speeder I'm gonna . . . I'm gonna . . . I'm gonna kick you straight outta my house!" He waved his arms wildly as he stood on the dock helplessly watching my joyride. I was glad to find that I was actually getting joy from the high spray of the water felt great to me. It was too bad Con never rode the V6 to see what it could do. It was such an agile machine.

"Bree! Get over here right now and get the hell off my speeder!" He shrieked. Oh, I would get over there alright.

I snapped the V6 into a path perpendicular to the dock, in a clear collision course. Ten meters away from the dock I pushed down with all of my strength on the V6 into the water. The returning push of the water and the machine, combined with my pull up, launched it into the air! Con ducked as the V6 and I flipped over him and the dock. I landed with a clean skid on the other side of the dock and slowed to a stop on the grass a few meters away from the lake.

" I got over here," I teased with an insidious smile. Cod laid on the dock, looking like he was seconds away from fainting. I parked the V6 on the ground beside the lake, turned it off, and walked back to Con.

"Now are you ready to go home?" I asked. Con's eyes finally focused now that he realized his nightmare was over. He sat up and raced over to inspect his V6. When he was done he turned back to me.

"What is your problem?! You nearly gave me a heart attack!" he roared as if I were still zooming over the lake, "You could have wrecked my speeder, or worse: killed yourself on my speeder!" he continued. Without the roar of the V6, Con's volume and tone was clear and unpleasant. I didn't like it. I didn't like it one bit. I had never really like being yelled at and the people I allowed to yell at me were an extremely exclusive group. Con was not in that group. I felt my fingers tighten into a fist as Con continued his rant.

"Do you have no respect for property?! This is my pride and joy! I fixed this thing when my dad was going to junk it, and you want to just zip around in it it without my permission?! Nuh uh Zippy, you better find another hobby."

Uh oh. I could feel it. My head was starting to lean. That always leads to violence. I guess I could say something to save him.

"Con, I . . . "

"No, no, no! I'm not done yet! That was rude; inconsiderate; immature; reckless and dangerous! Didn't your mother ever teach you . . . "

He didn't finish . . . he hadn't gotten the chance to. Before he could even finish the sentence, my anger had caused me to snap like a twig. I had felt my fist pull back and drive forward till I knocked Con's chin mid-speech. He jumped and fell, I think more from surprise than the actual force of the punch.

"Oh please! I didn't even hit you that hard." I sighed. He sat on the ground, holding his chin and staring at me.

"Y . . . you hit me." He stammered in a shocked state. I slowly bent down to him.

"Yes, I hit you. Do you want to know why?"

He nodded.

"I hit you because you are yelling at me . . . for no reason at all. You are being ungrateful, and I don't appreciate it. You were yelling at me as if I had wrecked your speeder, and then let it sink into the lake. The truth of the matter is: your speeder is unscratched; you are still dry and haven't been pushed into the lake; and your fishing gear is still intact. You're lucky I didn't ride off and leave you here to walk home! So you see, you have a lot of things to be grateful for at this specific moment. So I'm gonna need you to stop being such a slippidoo and show some gratitude. And most importantly: stop yelling at me. Do I make myself clear?"

He nodded again. "No more yelling. Got it."

"Good. Now grab your things. We're leaving. Now."

I stood up as he scrambled to back to the dock to grab his gear. He rushed back and immediately began stuffing his gear into the compartments of the V6. I mounted the V6, and Con paused.

"Bree, what are you doing?" He asked cautiously.

"I'm getting ready to get out of here. Are you coming?" I responded.

"But you don't know the way back."

"Actually I do."

"Well, . . . can I still drive? I just don't think I would be comfortable with your driving." He asked meekly.

I sighed. I guess I was going to have to drive later, when he wasn't being so nice. I slipped out of the drivers seat, which Con quickly and joyfully occupied, and slumped onto the back. Con started the V6 and we zoomed away from the lake.