“Come here, you wee bastard …”

Ringo reeled in carefully. His fishing rod was iron and the line was a special one made of eternium, but if he pulled too roughly, the hook would simply tear its way out of the fish’s mouth.

“And … got ya!”

Grinning, he removed the hook from the mouth of the speckled tastyfish, laying it on the fourth pile on the oilskin cloth he’d laid on the sandy Stranglethorn beach.

“That’s 40 … wait a second …”

He counted the piles in a panic, eyes narrowing in rage.

“Thirty-one? You ate nine fish!”

Indeed, Murky still had a tastyfish tail still hanging between his lips. Seeing Ringo turn toward him angrily, the murloc child swallowed, gulping down the last of it.

“Now I have to catch nine fish before –”

A horn sounded, sending jungle birds flying from their perches in the canopy in a panic. A moment later, a garbled goblin voice boomed over a megaphone from the docks of Booty Bay, announcing a winner.

“You cost me this contest AGAIN, you wee bastard! It’s murloc on the menu tonight!” Ringo grabbed a thorium axe and chased the chortling murloc down the yellow sand. “Come back here, you!”