Red Room Where the Writers Are

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Damn that sea lion hogging all the scraps. Damn that little kid on the railing, rooting for the sea lion. Damn that fisherman - tossing the shit into the water.

"Hey buddy! WE are on the dock!"

Damn it. Last week, "Porky" was staked out over by the Royal Polaris. Why isn't there another boat docked today? One boat isn't enough to spread the goodies around. Last week, I had the primo spot in the water, there. This dock shit is so seagull.

It's too far to fly to the bait tanks. I am in no mood to fight off half a flock of seagulls, a squad of sea lions and the rest of the guys out there. They are lazy jerks, anyway. Just laying there, waiting for something to drop. Here, at least, it could be a bit of work. If that damn fisherman didn't just give everything to "Porky."

Oh, gimme a friggin' break! The "Porky" thinks he is sooo magnanimous, tossing his seventh carcass up to us to fight over. The big pig ate all the good stuff already. Damn the seagulls - they can pick out the pieces of flesh on the vertebrae.

What the hell am I supposed to do? Swallow the thing whole? Spine, head and all?

Damn it. Some days it doesn't pay to be a pelican.