Greetings and salutations to one and all. If I may present myself: I am Chumley Masticar of the Undersea World, more commonly referred to as Chum. (Keep the jokes to yourself--no one wants to hear them and they’ve been done to death.)
Sadly, there is no royal retainer title to accompany my station as the best flippered friend of Sir Reel Tritone, second in line to the throne, or, as his enemies would call him, The Spare. Hideous name, actually. Denigrates his importance in the line up.
But enough about Reel. He gets his own book, an entire 85,000 plus words. Me? I think I’ve got a measly 800 of them (but who’s counting?)
So that you know, I am what is known by your scientists as Remora brachyptera, or more commonly, a remora. In rare instances, the uninformed have been known to use the terms suckerfish or sharksuckers.
I wouldn’t recommend either.
Remoras, as you can see by the lovely photograph our author has chosen, are long thin fish with an interesting adaptation on our head. We perform great service to the icthy (no, that’s not itchy) community: we keep their scales and skin clean. Yes, some of you may turn up your air-breathing noses at such a job, but let me ask you this: where would sharks be if they had an abundance of bacteria covering their sensors? Definitely not at Weight-Watchers, that’s for sure. And manta rays. Do you think they would look half as majestic gliding through the water with lunch bits trailing behind them? Of course not. That’s where we come in.
Now, as Reel so kindly points out in In Over Her Head, I am a suckerless remora. I prefer sucker-challenged. There was this boat, and this nasty wave, and, well…(shudders). Not a good memory.
But Reel came along with this outsea-ish proposal to scare the scales of a few Mer ladies and I couldn’t resist. He’s a kidder, that Reel. Now, the girls didn’t take too kindly to having the be-zeus-us scared out of them, but Reel and I? Well, let’s just say it was the start of a great friendship.
And now he’s gone. Oh, not to that Great Aquarium in the sky, but to the arms of a woman. I get it and all, but still…giving up your freedom to net yourself to a female for the rest of your days? I won’t tell you what else he’s given up, but the freedom thing was enough for me. So now he’s fishing-lined himself to the ol’ hook-and-bait, off living his happily-ever-after, leaving me to fend for myself.
You know, I coulda been a cod-tender (if I could figure out how to speak Cod). I coulda been someone. Instead I’m stuck telling the whale of a tale of Reel’s love story with his catch-of-a-lifetime for what? A few measly clams and second-hand glory?
I get no respect, I tell ya. No respect.
Oh, yeah. The book comes out in June, 2009. Just in time for beach season. You might want to consider putting it down when you’re sitting on the beach and check out the waves. You just might see the latest board-less surfer riding a few totally tubular waves…
Hang ten, dude. Ah heck. You wanna see the inspiration for Reel? Here ya go. Don't say I never gave you anything: