“Well, that’s weird. Noone ever caught a bass with a sandwich. You are a lying catfish, Mr. _Bleu_Cat,” Tommy laughed and threw out his line.

BleuCat slapped his tail on the surface, “nononono, ew mek meh angree, feesheeng buee! Ew weel no cetch enee teel ew geet det bess frum dis pund!” With that BleuCat disappeared below the surface for quite sometime and returned to the water’s edge.

Tommy was dumbfounded. The tip of his rod refused to yield to the nibbles he’d been getting all day. He cut his eyes over to Bleu who was lounging with his head resting on the bank.

Tommy sat for an hour, with not one nibble, if you don’t count mosquitos. “Hehe,” gurgled BleuCat as he slipped under.

“Fine!” yelled Tommy. BleuCat popped back up, “Ew, weel dew eet! Oui? Dis mecks meh sho heppee!” And with that he did a few fishy spins in the water.

With his lips pressed together, Tommy ripped off a piece of his sandwich and slipped it onto his hook. Molding it carefully so that it could not come off in the water.