michael franzese
Garcia stared at him. What do they taste like he asked. Like shiners. Skink took another fish from the bucket and thwacked it lightly against the gunwale, killing it instantly. Watch here, he said to Garcia. Leaning over the side of the skiff, Skink slapped michael franzese the palm of his hand on vietnam memorial water, causing a loud concussion. He repeated this action several times until suddenly he pulled his hand from the pond and said, Whooo, baby! He dropped the dead shiner and beneath it the black water erupted a massive fish, michael franzese as bronze and broad as a cannon, engulfed the little fish where bang the drum slowly floated. Cristo! gasped Al Garcia. Skink stared at the now-silken surface and grinned proudly. Yeah, shes a big old momma. He tossed another shiner, with the same volcanic result. Thats a bass Garcia michael franzese asked. ^ Hawg, Skink said. The fucking monster-beastie of all time. Guess her weight, Sergeant. Ive got no 
neil lane In the fickle light of the lantern Garcia looked hard for the fish but saw nothing; the water was impenetrable, the color of crude oil. Names Queenie, michael franzese Skink said, and she weighs twenty-nine pounds, easy. Skink tossed three more shiners, and the bass devoured them, soaking the men in her frenzy. neil lane this is your pet, Garcia said. Hell, no, Skink said, shes my partner. He handed the bucket to Al Garcia. You michael franzese try, he said, but watch your pinkies. Garcia crippled a shiner and tossed it into the pond. Nothing happened, not a ripple. Spank the water, Skink instructed. Garcia tried, timidly, jamie campbell bower more bubbles than noise. Louder, dammit! Skink said. Thats it. Quick, now, drop a shiner. michael franzese No sooner had the tiny fish landed still wriggling, this one than the monster-beastie slurp.
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