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A Slow Day

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The make-shift house boat was anchored into place in the middle of the ocean as Guybrush sat on the railing of the ship with one hand gripping the fishing rod and the other holding his head up. Beside him, Sam sat gripping with both hands his own fishing rod, his tail occasionally giving a small twitch in the silence as the two of them sat patiently waiting for some kind... any kind of nibble. Chum or not. But it was slowly becoming apparent that there wasn’t going to be any fish to be had.

Sam let out a small huff, it was a slow day for sure.

“This is unbearable.” Guybrush broke the silence, Sam glanced over at the young fisherman who had that longing look in his eyes. “It’s day in and day out with this bait shop and I’m a good three seconds away from chucking this fishing rod right into the ocean.”

Liar, Sam thought. He knew that Guybrush purposely saved up money for that specific fishing rod and has dove several times into the water to fetch it when it slipped. He watched Guybrush’s brows furrow, no longer just feeling his frustration now that it was visible and paid attention instead to the ocean... just to make sure that the aforementioned fishing rod doesn’t get yanked into the ocean by a pesky fish. Again. 

“I shouldn’t be here. My life shouldn’t-- isn’t that of a fisherman.” Guybrush continued, looking out at the lifeless ripple in the ocean. “I should be out there sailing the seven seas, exploring islands unknown, fighting off other rogue pirates... I-I should be out there making a legend of myself! I should-- I should be a pirate, not a fishmonger! Right?!” His voice lowered and his shoulders sagged. “...Right?” 

Sam placed his fishing rod to the side and gave the young blond his undivided attention when he heard him, seeing that familiar glum look on his face. He extended his hand out to place on Guybrush but held back from doing so when he heard the defeated sigh. It always hurt him whenever he saw Guybrush look the way he did...

“Who am I kidding... I haven’t done any progress as a pirate, or adventurer or even a fisherman. It’ll always be the same thing day in and day out. It’s not like I can just wish for an adventure or it falling on my lap.” He bitterly chuckled. “I’m... just kidding myself.”

Nope. This wasn’t going to fly, Sam thought. He stood up and brushed off the lingering dust off of himself and picked up his fishing rod. Sam noticed that the young fisherman didn’t even pay attention that he moved and figured that was perfect for what he was planning on doing as he began to poke Guybrush in the back with his fishing rod. 

“Sam, c’mon... knock it off.” Guybrush sighed. “I’m not in the mood.”

He kept poking. 

“Sam, I’m serious.”

The monkey rolled his eyes and then fished away the chum bucket from Guybrush, undoubtedly grabbing his attention.

“Sam, what the heck?!” Guybrush whipped his head at the monkey. His eyes widened as Sam posed himself and held the bucket hostage with his tail while gripping the fishing rod like a sword, grinning playfully menacing. 

He felt a sense of relief when he saw the blond smile before looking determined and standing up, gripping his own fishing rod like a sword and tapped it lightly against Sam’s. 

“How dare you board the ship of Captain Guybrush Threepwood, Mighty Pirate and steal my treasure?” He grinned. 

Sam smiled and swung at Guybrush.