A Slimy Gray Bottom-Feeder

The sardine sandwich observed the slimy gray bottom feeder from a cozy and somewhat lofty oceanic perch.

"I would never let a guy like that get to me," the sandwich pontificated. "I know what he is about."

The long time friend of the sardine sandwich was a patient whale who replied, "Oh yeah?" as they both looked at the gray fellow from what seemed like a safe distance at the time.

The slimy gray bottom-feeder liked to call himself CK Dexter, but most referred to him as CK for short.

CK was a piece of work that took delight in abusing others in a sly, but all to obvious way. He cloaked his words in honey-dripping compliments, and hiding behind a mantel of civility was his specialty. The Internet was a God-send for CK, as no one above his oceanic depth could see the real workings of his demonic soul.

He had no idea that the sardine sandwich and the whale had figured out his identity the previous autumn.

Selecting his target of the day preoccupied CK, and used up a great deal of time. He was good at slicing up the works of others, so good at it that he was ranked well above average. He was never top ranked, mind you, but he was up there nonetheless. For every ten complimentary comments he sent, he would send a missive that was so insulting and so rancorous that it shattered the feelings of all his intended recipients.

If those recipients could see from whence the attack came, they would have snorted and laughed heartily. No one out of his own community could see the real CK.

He made random, unsolicited comments in various locations, such as: "I must be kinder to my employees this year," to give the impression that he was employed and even had an unfortunate group working for him. The reality was quite different, but on the Internet, CK could keep that reality all to himself.

At least he thought he could do that. Sometimes actions lead to a certain sort of transparency of character, but CK was blissfully unaware of his obvious flaws.

The truth was he lived in a murky pit at the bottom of the ocean. So murky was his environment that a determined coat of slime stuck to him every time he tried to surface, dragging him and everyone near him down to the bottom.

"Remember that time in September when he targeted Lark, the angel fish?" The sardine sandwich continued as he studied the oblivious CK.

The whale sighed and answered, "Yes, sandwich. I remember. He was so nasty, he was frothing at the mouth. That's when we figured out it was CK." He knew that the sardine sandwich was about to launch into a visit to the past, no matter what he said.

"He targeted Lark that day for no good reason. I mean it was nonsense. There was no rhyme or reason to that comment. Lark is the one of the nicest creatures we know. He's never hurt a fly. CK went after him with a spear!"

"Lark is a doll," the whale agreed, patiently.

"Then I jumped in and did a good deed for Lark to make it up to him." The sardine sandwich continued.

"Did Lark ask you to do that?"

"No, whale. But I saw what needed to happen and I made it happen. It's what I do. I like to pay it forward when I can."

"Yeah, yeah. You the man. Oh. I mean you the sandwich," muttered the whale. "You know it might just be better to ignore that sort of behavior and not give him any attention. He might turn his evil sights on you one of these days if he figured out that you went to bat for Lark."

The whale could see that the sardine sandwich had logged onto his computer for that day and was deeply engrossed in reading his emails and reviews.

"Uh oh," said the sardine sandwich in an uncharacteristically quiet and somber tone.

"What?" inquired the whale.

"I have a review from that plankton-eating so and so," replied the sardine sandwich as he tentatively clicked on the email.

"Better delete it, without reading it. You know that bottom-feeding slime is a bit of a bully."

The whale decided to do his daily exercise and swim figure eights while the sandwich obsessed on his mail. He knew it wasn't likely that the sardine sandwich would take any advice, solicited or not.

"Oh my stars! How dare he!!" exclaimed the sardine sandwich. "What shall I do? What shall I do?"

"Remember he targeted Lark, so we know he's a mean bottom-feeding slime bucket," spouted the whale, helpfully as he swam by. "Maybe someone will come and help you out like you helped Lark. Don't hold your breath on it, though. Your advice to Lark was to ignore it and rise above it."

"I know, but this is different, He one and a half starred my yearly resolutions item that I've done so well on!" sputtered the sardine sandwich.

"How is it different, pray tell?"

"Well..., he's calling me a self abuser!"

The whale started to laugh and spout water at the same time, but he tried to mask it by faking a coughing spell.

"If that is your worst problem on the Internet, you are probably doing alright." Seeing that the sardine sandwich wasn't listening, he continued, "Sandwich, I know what you can do."

"Whale, quit laughing! This is serious!" cautioned the sardine sandwich. He squinted at the whale, who continued to swim around. "What can I do?"

"You could ignore him. But you couldn't even do that when it was about Lark. Or, you could write a satire and portray him as you see him," suggested the whale. "He'll never suspect a thing. You know what his character is and what his weaknesses are based on what he did to Lark. Use that as an example of his lack of character, and have fun with writing it."

And so the sardine sandwich set to work, portraying CK as accurately as he could as he typed on his computer, under the sea.

"Some characters never change," sighed the whale.

"I know he won't," answered the sardine sandwich as he continued to write his story.

"I meant you, sardine sandwich. I meant you."



Word Count = 1,066