The three people who read this story blog, or stog, will be happy to know that my finger stopped bleeding and is now making a full recovery. What a crazy way to begin March, eh? Well, let's continue with the story. Last time, Lincoln had made a mistake. Let's get back to that.
"This is a toilet?" Lincoln took a look inside the room. Nothing but a row of urinals and toilet cubicles." If it was the office of an undersea crime lord, it was not very impressive. Unless that was just to throw him off the scent. Speaking of scent, ewww! Didn't these fish guys flush?
"Yes sir, this here's the finest kept terlet in all the seven seas," said the old fishman proudly. "I scrubs it up, I scrubs it down, I scrubs it side to side. You won't find a better terlet scrubber than I, no siree bob!"
Abe's cheeks went red with embarrassment. "I think I may have made quite a mistake here. You see, I thought this was where your boss was hanging out."
"In here?" the fish janitor pondered this. "Well, sometimes he's in here. 'Specially if he's had a little too much of the chilli special, if you get me."
"I'm afraid I do," Lincoln tried not to show his disgust.
"Why'd you think the boss'd be in here, anyway?" asked the old fishman. "You think he's some kinda toilet fiend?"
"No, not at all. I just--"
"'Cos I tell ya, I won't work for no toilet fiend."
"I'm sure you won't, it's just--"
"Any toilet fiends come in here, they get the other side of my plunger!"
"I'm not even sure what a toilet fiend is. I just assumed, with the iron door and all..."
The fish janitor laughed. "Oh my no, son. This here door's just for keeping in the smell. Lotta folks go for the chilli special, if you get me."
"Still do, sadly," Lincoln made a mental note never to try this chilli special. "Well, do you know where it is your boss is?"
"Why sure I do," the old fishman pointed to a fine mahogany door. "He'll be in his office, where he usually is."
"Thanks for your help," Lincoln stormed towards the office, slamming open the door. Slamming open a door is a very complex move, not like slamming a door shut, which is commonplace and not encouraged unless it's really called for. Like if your parents just don't understand you.
Inside the room, behind a desk also made of fine mahogany, sat the scarred fishman he'd seen earlier, fresh cigar hanging in his lips. At Lincoln's intrusion, he immediately got up and slammed his hands on the desk.
"Alright, alright, who's da woise guy?" he raised an eyebrow angrily. "Who thinks dey can just slam dere way inta my office all disrespectful like?"
"My name is Abraham Lincoln sir, and I'm here to place you under arrest for crimes against the shipping industry."
The fishman laughed. "Oh, dat is rich, dat is real rich pal! You think you can just waltz in here and arrest da most feared crime boss in all da oceans?"
"So, you are the crime boss that's been wrecking those ships," said Abe, a little relieved that he had the right fishman this time.
"Hey hey, not so fast dere," the crime boss raised his hands in protest. "Who said anything about me being a crime boss?"
"You did, just now!"
"It's your word against mine, buddy. I'm just a legitimate business man here. Pone's da name, Aqua Pone. And what can I do ya for, mac?"
"You can start by stopping your villainous plans to built your battle submarine, you underwater marauder!" Lincoln pointed a finger angrily.
"Listen da dis guy!" Aqua Pone laughed. "He wants me ta start by stopping! And stopping something I ain't even started! It's confusing over here!"
"Don't lie to me, Pone!" Lincoln slammed his own hands on the desk. "One of your flunkies spilled the beans on your little operation. The game, as they say, is up."
"Oh yeah, wise guy?" the fishy crime lord sneered. "Well, I think my boys may just have a few lead-lined words ta say about dat!"
On cue, Lincoln was surrounded by a school of gangster fish people, who began blasting him with their tommy guns. But if you think this little distraction was enough to put Lincoln off, then brother, you've been reading the wrong story! Our stove-pipe-hatted saviour made short work of those goons, and turned his attention back to the crime lord.
"And now you're coming with me, Pone!" he smiled triumphantly.
"Oh, look who thinks he's da king a da block!" Aqua Pone flicked cigar ash at him. "And what makes you think you're gonna put me away? You got anything incriminating?"
"How about the fact that your goons just tried to shoot me?"
"Circumstantial at best! Dey was just shooting at something behind ya, and you was too stupid to get outta da way! Now I ask again...ya got any incontrovertible evidence dat links me ta any crime? Ya got any proof dat I'm building a battle submarine dat will wipe da surface dwellers like you of da face of da Earth? Huh? Ya got proof? Anything that could make a conviction?"
"Well...I guess not," Lincoln admitted.
Aqua Pone laughed. "Then how ya gonna make anything stick, ya palooka? Ya really think your accusations would stand up in a court of law? I'd be back on the streets before ya's could say Jackie Robinson. Oh, or maybes you was thinking a' just putting me away without a trial! Ain't that more your thing, Mr. "I hates habeus corpus"?
You suspend the right to a fair trail during a period of war one time and they never let you forget it. "On the contrary, Mr. Pone. I'll see you get a fair trial before I drag you away to a cell at Seaworld. I'll even be the prosecuting attorney!" said Abe confidently. "I'm sure with all your criminal activities, there'll be a ton of evidence to support my claim, if I look for it."
"Oh, look who's da big comedian!" Aqua Pone blew cigar smoke in Lincoln's face. Underwater. It's best if you don't question the physics of it. "Alright, you're on Mr. Lincoln. Let's see if ya has da skills ta back up ya moxie. I'll see ya's in court."
Wow! Looks like we're on the precipice of the trial of the century! That's underwater. And involves fish people. And Lincoln. With all those qualifiers I can be confident I'll never be wrong. I'm sure we'll find out more about it next time, assuming another part of my body doesn't give out.
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