Swamp Thing Is Happening

After a battle during a new year there was a mystic Lancelot that heard about South Florida bull on the west coast. Using rags for britches he decided to continue his war knowing that it was fought in another century. Out of the money since he used his option not to claim an allowance, he was looking to fill someone with his spirit.

“I do not care what the mature maiden was claiming,” the mystic Lancelot screamed into the marshy swamp that was waiting for the sun to burn off the misty distraction that produced his ghost, “the winning factor is not being out of the money and the North remembers things, lots of things.”

“North remembers, what?” Hal and Dale who were in hearing distance from the disgruntled delusion wondered.

“Conquest Day,” Dale concluded putting down a mass-produced paper back that stole ideas from a television show based in the mid evil times.

“Is that guy all right?” Hal asked grabbing another morning beer from the cooler before returning to his fishing pole.

“It could be the smash factor,” Dale answered, “think about what you are going to be like let’s say by five o’clock somewhere.”

Seeing the small vessel with the elderly couple the mystic Lancelot let out another gasp before disappearing, “Carpe Ominous Carpe Ominous!”

“What did he say?” Hal was trying to translate.

“Ominous is not Latin but it has to do with seize all like the day,” Dale brought meaning to the scene then suddenly fishes started to invade the boat, “and in this case it’s the harvest.”

Hal could not keep up catching the seafood and when things calmed down he returned to the cooler, “Dale do you think its five o’clock somewhere?”

Looking up from the book Dale responded, “no honey it’s the smash factor. Oh by the way did you make reservations at land lovers for tonight?”

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