The Hive is ALIVE! It's not dead yet!

[Dog Moon]

Okay it'll take some time to write... It's about how a village nearby where I live got named.

Kewl. We'll be waiting eagerly with great anticipation.

 

[Blackrat]

Here goes:

There's this village nearby, Monninkylä. Literal translation of the name would be something like Catfish-ville. Through the village runs a river. When my grampa was just a boy, the village was still called something else. It's in the history now and no-one remembers what it was called thosedays. Anyways, he was sitting under a bridge, fishing with a rod he'd made himself when suddenly the line snapped after a strong quick pull. Damn, he thought, must have been a weak line. Luckily he had a spare-one which he tied to the rod. A while later the same happened again. Grampa got a bit annoyed and went home to get some better line but when it snapped once more, he decided to use twine. So once again he hit the river bank and waited. This time he felt the pull, and it nearly ripped the rod from his hands. But he held tight and fought, untill suddenly the rod itself snapped half. Now he really got angry and decided that no matter what, he is going to get that fish. So he left to get some supplies and when he returned he got to work.

There was this young birch growing near the river which he twisted down. He tied a rope, which he was going to use as line to the top of the tree. He had a small milk-can which he used as floater and a bent eleven-inch iron-nail to use as hook. He had snatched a chicken from his aunt's farm to use as bait. When he was finally ready he threw it in the river and waited. It didn't take long for the whole river-bank to shook as the thing took the bait. A whole five minutes it struggled and then lo! It ripped the whole tree from the ground. Now that's one fish, my grampa thought. But he was adamant in his decision. He wasn't done yet.

Next day he returned with more supplies. This time he had some iron-chain to use as the line, which he tied to the bridge itself. Putting a barrel as the floater and an anchor as the hook, he only needed another bait. The opportunity presented itself as he saw some sheep on the field nearby. Not bothering with ethics he snathed and slaid one to put in the hook. And into the water it went. It took again only minutes for the hungry beast to take it. The bridge moaned under the stress and for a while he was afraid it wasn't going to hold. But it did. For hours he struggled with the fish, and finally he got it up and tied to the bridge. It was an enormous catfish. The whole village came to marvel at the catch and celebrated it. For two weeks everyone feasted on the fish before it finally broke free and got away.

 

[hafrogman]

Wow.

Your grandpa was quite the liar. Still, it is an impressive tale of the one that got away.

 

[Dog Moon]

Wow.

Your grandpa was quite the liar. Still, it is an impressive tale of the one that got away.

Except it got away after being eaten by townsfolk for 2 weeks, so even though it managed to escape, I doubt it got very far.

 

[Blackrat]

Wow.

Your grandpa was quite the liar. Still, it is an impressive tale of the one that got away.

Are you calling my gramps a liar!? The outrage! He never lies. Don't mind the fact that he lived half a country away when he was a kid.

You can imagine the awe of a little boy as gramps told that when I was growing up. I think I've heard that story for a hundred times. I finally realized there was something fishy (oh the puns!) when my dad tried to claim the glory of the catch for himself...

 

[hafrogman]

Are you calling my gramps a liar!? The outrage! He never lies. Don't mind the fact that he lived half a country away when he was a kid.

You can imagine the awe of a little boy as gramps told that when I was growing up. I think I've heard that story for a hundred times. I finally realized there was something fishy (oh the puns!) when my dad tried to claim the glory of the catch for himself...

Yeah, I was almost certain that it was in fact a completely true story until the sheep. Let's face it, if your Grandad couldn't tickle one lousy catfish out of a stream, how was he going to wrassle an ornery ovine into being his bait?

Well, that and the part where none of the townsfolk thought to kill the fish before dining off it.

 

[Blackrat]

Well, that and the part where none of the townsfolk thought to kill the fish before dining off it.

Now that you mention it, that does sound a bit strange. Oh well, grampa never lies. If he says it happened so, then it happened so. You better believe.

 

[Dog Moon]

Well, that and the part where none of the townsfolk thought to kill the fish before dining off it.

I assumed people would cut off giant slabs of fish, cook them, hand them out, and go get more slabs of fish to cook.

 

[hafrogman]

I assumed people would cut off giant slabs of fish, cook them, hand them out, and go get more slabs of fish to cook.

Well yes, but unless the fish was smart enough to pretend to asphyxiate after a few minutes of air, and didn't even flinch as people carved from it for two weeks, wouldn't someone notice and try and kill it?

 

[Dog Moon]

Well yes, but unless the fish was smart enough to pretend to asphyxiate after a few minutes of air, and didn't even flinch as people carved from it for two weeks, wouldn't someone notice and try and kill it?

Maybe they figured keeping it alive kept it fresh. Would YOU want to continue eating a fish that's been on the ground rotting for a week and a half? Nuh-uh.