Something Fishy

I had a customer by the surname of Tench phoning me today. I thought there was something fishy about the call. He didn’t clown around. He got straight to the sword point.

‘I’m after the gold at the end of the rainbow,’ he told me.

‘Stop carping about,’ I replied, ‘I ray have to put you in your plaice. You are about to skate on thin ice.’

‘This is not a red herring.’ He sprat. ‘I’m trying to make a cardinal effort to tell you about the sharks of this industry.’

I thought he’d got off to a flying start, but then he beached. I could picture him going as red as a salmon. I waited for him to gather his wits and thought I would have to go to the spout for a drop of water. As I glanced over to that area I noticed shoals of activity. Reminded me of a tin of sardines. Haddock! I realised I would have to wait.

The customer continued, climbing on to his perch. I thought he was as slippery as an eel. I couldn’t trout what he was saying. It was like sand running through my fingers. I realised he was trying to whale me in, so I let him know that his barbs weren’t stinging and his harpoons were far off the mark.

‘Well,’ he said, ‘let me stream line the current. There’s no point in lying around like a jelly fish. I won’t flounder. Cod you refund my money? I know the tide changes but this increase is extortionate. Do you think I’m Marlin? I can’t afford this. You’re a bunch of piranahs!’

‘We prefer Baracuda.’ I put him straight, reeling him in. I’ve never been known as a shrimp. I like to spear the victim on my pike. He tried to angle in another direction but I cut him off. It was like playing a tuna on double bass. ‘You can’t have a refund.’ I couldn’t help but bream. ‘I know it’s a cobbler. There’s no point in getting crabby. Elver, you moray lodge a complaint if you wish.’

‘Grouper.’ He replied, although it sounded more like a grunt. ‘I tetra I’m not the sole complainant. You’re a mudsucker!’

I cut the line.

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