Beaches make poor campsites

Beaches make poor campsites when you’re a great blue,
however, it’s not every day someone decides to speak whale.
“Don’t you get sick of krill? I’d get sick of krill.”
This is as close to a grimace a baleen’ll get.
“Wait here. I’ll be back.”

If you think the ocean makes you more patient, you’re wrong.

“I’ll be back.”
“…I’ll be back…”
“………I’ll be back………”
“I’d get sick of krill.”
Krill is perfectly fine.
I love krill.

“Don’t you get sick of krill?”
Audacious. Vulgar. Tactless.

Maybe she’ll bring back some krill.

“Beached whales don’t live long,” I can hear them saying.
I can’t really hear them saying this, I’m just imagining it.
They do have a point though. This was imprudent.
Beaches are no place for a blue whale.
Beaches populated by petulant, krilistines are no place for a blue whale.

She did speak whale though.
It’s not every day someone decides to speak whale.

“What if she just ran out of whale oil, and really wants to read a book, but can’t, because she needs more whale oil, and just happened to see you passing by, called out to you, and intends to have you perish, so she can harvest your blubber, and turn it into whale oil?”
“Crazier things have happened.”
“Remember, she doesn’t even like krill.”

“She doesn’t even like krill.”

I hate the beach.

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