"Doubting you...I guess I am, but the palm tree...I can't see any tiki lights", replied the shark.
"Not to worry my little cousin, have faith -- leap!" shouted Hammerhead, nodding at the grinning porpoise.
The shark hesitated for only a moment, then swam in ever tightening circles finally breaking the surface of the sea with tremendous force, landing ecstatic and exhausted at the base of the beautiful palm tree. However it was quite different than he had expected, the ground was gravelly and strewn with sharp rocks, there was no soft and welcoming sand. There were no tiki lights to light the beach with the brilliance of his sleekness. There were no gulls. There were no hermit crabs. There were no rays. The shark was now bewildered and alone. Then he heard a great rustling in the underbrush, just beyond the beach's edge.
"Well, boys, what have we here?" loudly bellowed a large bristly warthog peeking from the tall abrasive coastal grass, trailed by a garrulous single file line of five adolescent warthogs.
"Who's there?" inquired the shark, nervously trashing side to side, trying to catch a glimpse of who or what was behind him.
"Quiet now boys -- this could be dinner", whispered the warthog to his fidgety line of curious sons.
"Hello, hello there sir you appear to be stranded. Need some help?", answered the warthog from the tall grass.
"Yes, it appears that I have found my way to the wrong beach and the wrong palm tree", answered the very uncomfortable shark.
"Just what were you looking for sir? What is the right palm tree?", asked the warthog.
"I've come in search of the splendid palm tree with the beautiful tiki lights, do you know of its whereabouts? I am sure that it must be close by", said the shark, trying to hide his great disappointment and fear.
"Certainly I do, I know just where the splendid palm tree with the beautiful tiki lights is", hollered the warthog, desperately trying to refrain from laughing.
"Well then, please show yourself. I have a destiny to fulfill and soon it will be dark!", shouted the shark, regaining some of his youthful hubris.
The warthog turned and passed up and down the roiling line of little fellows, admonishing them to stay put and be quiet. He then slowly and deliberately left the safety of the tall grass, approaching the large, toothsome stranger -- testing the many aromas, plowing his snout through the gravel and snorting at the horizon. Keeping a safe distance, he determined where the eye of this large fish was and squatted in, what he thought, was the beast's line of sight. He was right.
"Oh my goodness, sir, is that...are you the who that I have been speaking to?" inquired the shark, greatly disturbed by the appearance of his possible savior.
"Yes, it's me. The splendid palm tree is just up the beach -- I can see the beautiful tiki lights just beginning to twinkle", replied the mischevious warthog. "I will lead you there first thing in the morning when the surf is higher and you can be moved more easily in that direction." This was not true of course; the warthog was very simply going to wait until the shark had no more oxygen in his gills.
"You don't understand, you pimply, misshapen, hideous little man, I am destined to light the beach with the brilliance of my sleekness, illuminated by the beautiful tiki lights", cried out the shark, tears of anger and despair running down his drying sharkskin.
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