Tommy raised a muddy hand and scratched his forehead. Slapped another buzzing ‘skitter as it landed on his neck. BlueCat eyeballed him for a moment. It was quickly becomming a staredown.

Tommy spoke again, “I don’t thank Grandma would like me talkin’ to a catfish.” BlueCat laughed again, “Ah, no, Grahnmah, wood no. Mmm. She iz a loovlee woomahn.” He then disappeared below the surface of the water momentarily.

Tommy leaned over the waters edge to peer into the stained pond. BlueCat popped his head back up and nearly cause Tommy to jump out of his skin. “Leetle buee! Ew, mest dew sumsing feur meh! Ew mest cetch dis bess frum dis pund! Tewdeh!!!”

Tommy blinked, confused. Then he sat back on his heels, slapped another mosquito and sighed. “I can’t catch that bass. I don’t know how. He’s too smart.”

BlueCat grunted, “Bah, hez no smaht! Iz stupeed. Luke at meh tail.” With that BlueCat whipped his tailfin from the water and Tommy saw a bassmouth sized chunk ripped from the catfish’s hindend. “Ew, mest cetch!”