Is the River Piddle the best place to fish in Dorset?

Question

Woe betide the wrath of Cthulhu! The blind Seer boomed as I left the Anglers shop in a small Village in Dorset.

"Okay Sir, I will." I states perplexed, my fishing friend was equally beguiled by this ominous chap. We had only popped in for some Meal Worms as we fancied a spot of fly fishing on the River Piddle, and perhaps a look at the "Carriers" streams also, rather good for fly fishing it has to be said.

Looking back at the Seer, his gnarly hand held out with an admonishing and foreboding finger, his sightless pale eyes wide in terror as he jabbered some incantation to ward off some invisible terror. Daft old Duffer I thought, and with that. . myself and Ethel (a fly fishing Champion for the over Seventies no less) went to set up in a prominent position by the river. In preparation for the River's Bounty and as a thanks for our Lord we sung as a duet "This is the world that God made".

Then we commenced fishing.

"By Jove!" I shouted at Ethel. "I've got one! A real wriggly bugger too, get the net Dear!" She swiftly pulled up her baggy apple-catchers and hoisted them up and over her pot ensuring her Frock wouldn't get wet and waded into the stream ready to haul the thrashing creature onto the bank. . . . when, an almighty and hideous wail bubbled out of the threshing waters! She leapt back with a shriek as an Unholy creature emerged from the depths of the stream! Tendrils and tentacles thrashing, howling with an alien screech, "Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeehhh!"

Plucky Old Ethel brandished a stick and clubbed the Monstrosity between it's tiny squiggly little eyes.

"Waaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh!" It roared and just then, the very same Blind Seer turned up with a posse of Villagers brandishing pitchforks and torches,

"Behold!" Shouted the Seer "Star-Spawn of Cthulhu! Brethren, send this foulness back to London, it shall not plague our Godly waters no more with Mediterranean Cooking!" And with that the Dorset Chaps waded in and hauled the outnumbered Monster and placed him a tank full of Krill.

"What of the Creature?" I asked the Seer, as I felt a little sorry for the scaly Cherub to be honest.

"Fear not Angler, it will be taken to the London Aquarium, County Hall, Westminster Bridge Road on the South Bank, and will be well tended for. Another Star-Spawn from Padstow was caught, and they shall keep each other company."

Myself and Ethel went over to the tank, and sure enough the Star-Spawn of Cthulhu was sitting contently sieving Krill through it's Mandibles, and a low happy purring bubbly sound could be heard as

he snatched a Minnow from me and chomped it up eyes blinking in bliss.

"Farewell Star-Spawn!" I waved, then me and Ethel continued fishing till Twilight, and sauntered off to the Hotel for a hot shower. . . together! Oooooer!

Answer 1

You could send it to Keith Floyd.  He fears no fish.  Here is his website:

http://www.floydonline.co.uk/index.php

He would disarm it, by drinking it under the table. Then he would souse it in absinthe and sell it for a silly price to weekenders from London.   The BBC could film it and sell the DVD. .

Your only problem will come from the Receiver of Wreck.  Under British law, the Receiver of Wreck must be notified about catches of royal fish, such as Sturgeon, or Great Old Ones including Cthulhu.    The Queen is entitled to these, but nowadays it is customary for her to donate them to the kitchens of the Great Ormond Street Children's Hospital.  Failure to make proper notification carries a possible suspended sentence,  (in a gibbet on Tower Hill).

Answer 2

Ethel really doesnt sound the type to be showering with any old Angler! Next time you may be safer going to the shops and maybe a spot of tiffin.

Answer 3

I think I do, but if I say blatantly, may be in far more trouble than the author who indeed gave clues at the nature of the Star-Spawn.

Answer 4

Aha twas piddle inn twoddle thee bespeak , and if ever ye shall happen on the stour then the same fate awaits thee there, for also there is the Star-Spawn of Cthulhu and it feeds upon the banks near Bryanston weir , and many a hundred or more have tried to encapture the beast, and many a hundred or more have not succeded too .

The same said bestowers from the London Aquairium have waited day and night and in thick of fog and in mists of rain , just to glimpse and then if one had caught the glimpse, then to gloat and boast and brag, and to make others inadequencies seem futile in the waiting.

And of what significance to others? Unless they should stray from their safety and fall into the piddle or even wade in its glory , then my dear friend , the understanding would only be from a discontented heart or bellyfull of Piddletrenthide banter...

Answer 5

WTH?

Answer 6

Interesting.

I prefer dog egg pond thou

Answer 7

I stayed at the Piddle Inn once ... the River Piddle is a piddling little river not worthy of the name river

Answer 8

Hi VG, I believe you are alluding to whiney shortarsed celebrity font of pure misery Rick "Franken" Stein.

I could be wrong though.