Sea Dragons and Sanctity.
I’m outraged. Apparently, nature doesn’t think much of our institutions and traditions, so much so that it’s willing to flagrantly defy the usual course of behavior and cause a male animal, in this case a sea dragon, to become pregnant. Now, it may or may not be true that pregnant here is just a term for what happens when the male fertilizes the female’s eggs and then the female deposits the eggs on the male for safekeeping, but regardless, it’s a terrifying precedent to set. If males can become pregnant, why would we need female sea dragons? It’s not as if they’re pleasing or nice or hang out with me… I mean male sea dragons.
Besides, I saw the female dragon and she looked like a hussy, scales hanging out everywhere, tiny dorsal fins flapping alluringly for the whole sea to… observe. It’s a graphic form of temptressing, trolloping behavior, and gosh darn it, I wan’t… um … stand for it. No wonder the male has to look after the eggs, the female sea dragon, let’s call her “Sandy”. “Mills”. “From 218”. .. is too busy partying and living the high life to ever take anything seriously. “Girls just wanna have fun” indeed. Some male sea dragon comes along professing undying love and affection for Sandy Mills from 218, and all she does is allow him to fertilize the hell out of her eggs, drop him some baggage and never call him back. On the seaweed phone.
Look. The hussy.
Hopefully Sandy’s new male-dragon friend will know how to achieve a better than 60 percent hatching rate on those eggs, oh wait, he’s a death metal rocker. I’m guessing he’s not the nurturing type that would hold a batch of sixty to eighty eggs on his tail for the incubation period of four to six weeks and then look on overjoyed as they hatch and are immediately autonomous beings and LEAVE HIM JUST LIKE THEIR TRAMP OF A MOTHER! GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!!!!!!!!
Well, Sandy Mills, I hope you’re happy with the situation you’ve created. Now you’ve ruined forty to fifty lives just to satisfy your base cravings and instincts, since you apparently lack higher cortical function and emotions stronger than a fundamental imperative drive. I truly hope you go on to live the sea dragon version of the good life. And I hope nothing with tuna nets or a heroin addiction relapse is in your future. And I hope fucking “Skynight Apocalypse” fucking bombs and Ulreg gets a real name that I didn’t just make up. I’m not bitter. I’m not. Their music’s terrible, I heard it when I was following you that night. Er… in the coral.
Anyway, well played Sally Mills from 218. And well played, nature. You’ve showed me that nature is a cruel mistress who will change her ways at the drop of a hat, just to flaunt a diversion from convention and a few leafy growths that look like fins, indicative of the sea dragon, as opposed to the sea horse. Well played.