COB, A SPACE ODYSSEY - PART 5: A FAREWELL TO WINGS
 
“Hey, pass that puffer fish over this way,” squeaked a

particularly moist and corpulent dolphin. Dolphins get high by literally

sucking the life out of puffer fish. It is another of the many reasons to hate

dolphins. Lord E-e-e-e-a, High Criminal of the Pacific Orgyocracy,

magnanimously sent the still-wriggling puffer fish drifting towards his

lieutenant. Lieutenant I-i-ik greedily snatched the poor creature between his

pallid fins and pressed its half-inflated body to his lipless mouth.


“Ohhhhh yeah,” barked the loathsome hedonist, “That’s good

puffer.”


His squeals of unwholesome delight were interrupted by the High Criminal, who raised a warning fin.


“Quiet,” muttered E-e-e-e-a, “Do you hear that?”


I-i-ik cocked his head to better expose his gaping ear-holes to the vibrations of the water. “It sounds like someone … making love to the ocean.”


The High Criminal’s beady eyes widened as much as they were able. “By my prehensile wang!” He cried, turning to flee, “It’s Cob! He’s come!”

 

And come he had. Over the past week, Cob had come and come again, chasing the dolphin host all across the Pacific until they lived in constant fear. As the High Criminal’s forces broke into a disorganized retreat, Cob emerged from the murky ocean waters on the back of a giant seahorse, flanked by an honor guard of blisteringly sexual mermaids of every known gender, and some genders as yet unknown. 


The excessively voluptuous mermaids swam shoulder to shoulder with the swarm of battle-hardened ducks which now formed Cob’s personal retinue. Between the ducks, the mermaids, and Cob, it was a fearsome and sexy host indeed. The dolphins were simultaneously aroused and terrified. They did not know whether to run or try to instigate an orgy, so they split the difference by running with boners. Cob was in no danger of drowning. He had lived in space for millennia, and could hold his breath for a very, very long time. It was one of his sex assets. He was like a more handsome, more competent, and better-dressed Aquaman. In other words, he was nothing like Aquaman, and it was good. 


He reined in his seahorse and motioned for the ducks and mermaids to keep a steady pace. No need to chase down the dolphins. He turned to the Snow-White Duck, Aa-Aak, who had first pledged to help Cob on his quest, to ask him to relay the orders to his contingent. If ducks were capable of facial expressions, Cob would have sworn Aa-Aak wore a look of intense concern on his weathered, feathered face. But a sharp, humanoid scream interrupted Cob’s introspection, and the reason for Cob’s measured pace became clear: the dolphins had fled straight into a fishnet, and the whole mass of them became inescapably tangled in the mesh. Cob signaled the charge, and the entire company fell upon their foes.


Many dolphins died that day, and were probably repackaged and sold as Tilapia at discount grocery stores. But all was not well. When Cob regained the surface, he noticed that his ducks were not with him. The salt water and the deep dives had finally taken their toll. Cob’s most faithful allies now rested at the bottom of the sea. Cob wept, and his tears raised the sea level by three quarters of an inch worldwide, seriously affecting agriculture in several countries. More ducks remained in the world, of course, but after Cob had lead so many ducks to their doom, would any more be willing to follow him?