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…And Then Things Got Weird….

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October 2017

Shark Fin Soup Finished Cover

shark fin soup

During a storm, Jesus appeared on a blue tarp upon the deck of The Vinnie Maru, demanding that agent Bernie Benedict find him a date. 

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Shark Fin Soup

A tale of sharks, gods, cannibals, mad cows and endless love. 

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Since bygone days, two ancient Pacific cannibal tribes have fought over which of their respective shark gods should rule the Seven Seas. Today, the 3000-year-old Melanesian war has reached the shores of the US.

‘Word on the street’ has it that the shark gods and their peckish followers are gearing up for a final, pay-per-view televised battle which will take place in Jamaica Bay, NY, on New Year’s Eve. 

Leading up to the match, Interpol agent Bernie ‘The God Whisperer’ Benedict and his paranormal crew are following the body count along US waterfronts.

And Jesus still wants a date.

Soon, our hero finds himself in dangerous waters as the ‘prize’ in an over-heated mating game between two deities, the majestic virgin moon goddess, Artemis, and her luscious friend, the potty-mouthed Fijian goddess, Dauna. Join the merriment as Bernie — having tasted forbidden fruit — becomes Cupcaecius, a cosmopolitan dead ringer for Cary Grant and the first new god to appear on Mount Olympus in over five-thousand years. 

The Beach at Wassup Dock, Kupaio, Fiji.

From the upcoming novel Shark Fin Soup

Ying Yang by Fred Barnett

“SHUT THE באַרען up, לאָך WAFFLE!” screamed queen Dauna, shocking the tourists on their way back to Nyah-Wassup Dock, some of whom dropped their free cups of Outtamywayasshole Coffee. “Oh, sorry, all. That was my morning Tourette’s speaking. What I meant to say was ‘Shut the באַרען up, לאָך waffle!’”

“No offense taken, my queen,” said the crone, Lupta.

The crowd were now focused on Bernie’s terrible choice of Bermuda shorts, as if they were rubber-necking the scene of a tragic car wreck.

“That..schlub,” said Lupta the sage, employing an old Fijian term, “will someday bear your fruit, Your Heinous.”

“P’leeeeease. Fruit?” asked Dauna. “You know that I pass out at the sight of juice. That slob? Really? Dauna’s curiosity about Bernie had been aroused. My ampullae of Lorenzini (sharkie sensing organs) have never felt like this, she thought as her rear / tail end began to sway. 

Bernie, in return, could not take his eyes off of her anxious shifting legs beneath her lucky parreo. Lucky? Why did I think the parreo was lucky, as if it were somehow alive? He watched ‘Her Heinous’ draw down an entire cigarette in a single breath while she took an uncomfortable, yet thrilling inventory of the silly human. Her deep brown eyes seemed to go ‘click click click.’

Dauna was beautiful and she was looking at — him!

Wanting a snapshot of his own, Bernie lifted his new Nikon and aimed. The camera flared, fell and melted in the sand. The insatiable shark goddess queen began to circle the hypnotized tourist. Bernie had a feeling that either he was going to be eaten by, or married to the captivating queen. Same damned thing.

Dauna’s spell was broken when the captain of the dive boat called the tourists back on board. Bernie’s heart was racing as he turned for one last look. The sultry queen of Kupaio was gone. 

She’d driven off, upset about her future.

Every so often, in the silence of night, a mysterious breeze carrying the name “Bernie” would gently jingle the chimes of Dauna’s fun foyer. “Berrrrrnie. Berrrrrrrrnie.”

(Sad violin music.) But forsooth, dear readers, for after Bernie had left the island, Dauna was to be married.

An arranged marriage…

…to a gold-plated schmuck-with-fins named Bunji.

Dauna, upset, drove off in her golf cart, running into some stuff along the way.

Human stuff.

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