There Was a Man Named Sam

Once upon a time there was a man named Sam. Sam was a decent fellow who loved dancing and hated sardines. 

“I do not love dancing!” Sam says defensively as he begins dancing erratically. “Hey, stop that!” 

Sam stops dancing, but only because he is suddenly attacked by a giant sardine. 

“Wait, what?” Sam says, confused. “What giant-?” 

A giant sardine appears out of the blue and flops over to where Sam is struggling to free himself of his shackles.

“Shackles? Really?” Sam cries. The sardine flops even closer.

“Sam picks the lock to the shackles and breaks himself out!” Sam says desperately, but unfortunately for him, life doesn’t work that way, and he is crushed by the giant sardine.

Once upon a time, there was a man named Sam. He was a decent fellow who loved dancing and hated sardines. 

“How am I alive?” Sam says, patting his body as if to check that all the important bits are there. “That’s because I just died! And I do not love dancing!” 

Sam finds himself in a bit of a sticky situation. “No,” Sam protests. “I don’t wanna be in a sticky situation!” 

Unfortunately for Sam, he has no say in the matter. Sam is tied to the back of a motor boat and has hundreds of sardines nibbling at his toes. He struggles to keep his head above the water.

“Blisfeufrgh,” Sam sputters as he is dragged through the ocean.

Sam drowns and hundreds of sardines feast on his corpse.

Once upon a time, there was a man named Sam. He was a decent fellow who loved dancing and hated sardines. 

“I DO NOT-” Sam cuts himself off and glares suspiciously at the empty air. “...like sardines, how on earth did you know,” he says sweetly. 

Nobody likes sardines.

Sam begins inching closer to a very specific point in the obviously empty space. A door appears in his path. 

He breaks the door down and continues towards the point that has no significance. He trips over his own two feet. “You’re not getting off that easy,” he grumbles, catching himself. 

He turns around and begins walking in the wrong direction. “Wrong direction, huh?” he says, turning back towards the empty, unimportant, boring space. “Wrong direction from what?”

He sprints towards the door as thousands of sardines rain down from the sky, pelting his face with their tiny fishy bodies. He reaches out into empty space as he is buried alive, but in vain and-

Hi, Sam here. And I think it’s time to tell a new story. Once upon a time there was a narrator who was not a decent fellow, loved dancing and REALLY hated sardines.

Reviews

[Myra Fellows]

I had a good laugh for sure.
Sardines and dancing. Leaves me wondering how these two became combined.
It took me a moment to realize that Sam was able to hear the narrator. That was not clear and I had to read this several times. I actually got hung up on the shackle portion. I feel that could be tweaked.
(Looking around room to be sure a giant sardine is not approaching).

[An owl on the moon]

Now, that is a story worth telling! It reminded me in small ways of a Sam who didn't like green eggs, yet quickly took us on a ride down another path. There is a brilliantly twisting dance in your words that kept me reading for more.

[SaltyParabolas]

Thank you so much! Dr. Seuss is one of my heroes, so to be compared in a small way to him is a great honor!

[An owl on the moon]

I'm glad you like Dr. Seuss too. It was a horrible day when I figured out that not all books rhyme. :)