My Life's a Sitcom

by Ashfur

That Name Sounds Fishy

Ah, Neightona Beach. Truly a vacation hotspot for any creature looking to catch some fun in the sun. With the summer sun beating down on the beach as waves lapped at the shore, hundreds of vacationers were enjoying time away from responsibility. This was not the case for one mare, though.

Punchline, despite her top-class marketing job giving her ample vacation to come down and spend time with her husband and her in-laws who she genuinely liked, she had a second job to attend to: the seven year old colt running around her dark pink legs. Her only colt was always full of energy, so finding new activities to keep him occupied every year they came down was a challenge.

She brushed a stray lock of her curly purple mane out of her vision and addressed the colt. “Laugh Track! Settle down, please. I know you're excited to go fishing, but save some energy for the fish!”

“Come on, mom, hurry up! I wanna get a good spot!”

Punchline giggled to herself. For a unicorn, he certainly was excited to take part in a primarily pegasus and griffin-oriented activity. Consuming fish was important to keeping wings healthy, as Punchline knew all too well. It always perplexed her how her pegasus body and her earth pony husband created a unicorn, but stranger things had happened. Speaking of her husband, he chose to stay home because fish creeped him out. She dismissed those thoughts and galloped after her colt, who was already in the gift shop/rod rental store, eyeing a novelty hat that just screamed tourist trap.

“Laugh, wait up! I'm the one who has to pay for you!”

---

“I'm bored.”

Laugh slumped down on the bench, watching the fishing line not move an inch in any direction, the seawater twenty feet below proving to be more interesting. He had hooked the pier a few times, but not caught anything. “At this rate, we won't get anything done today!”

“Pradon us, coming through.”

Laugh and Punchline turned and looked, then stepped aside as a trio of burly minotaurs and a griffon strode past them. Each had at least three fishing rods, a massive box brimming with bait and lures, and spools of strong fishing line. To say they were hobbyists would be an understatement, they were professionals.

“Whoa. Why couldn't we rent stuff like that, mom? Why'd we get stuck with this rod that won't catch anything?” Laugh asked, watching the group set up at the end of the pier.

“Because those cost thousands of bits, sweetie. More than I'm comfortable spending for a day long trip. Besides, this rod works! We'll catch something, I promise!” As if on cue, the rod dipped, a bite on the end of the line.

“Hang on, I GOT IT!” Laugh Track sprung into action, lunging forward and holding the pole with his forelegs while spinning the crank with his magic, reeling in his prize. After an agonizing minute, it finally broke the surface of the water: a crab, holding onto the hook with the bait still attached. “Look mom! I got a crab! Look!”

The crab, still holding onto the line with its pincer, reached over with its claw and took the bait off the hook. “Wait, what are you doing, crab? Don't you dare-” and the crab let go, falling back into the ocean below. “NO! COME BACK! Aw…” Laugh flopped down on the pier, defeated. “Why can't I catch anything like those guys at the end of the pier? They look… what are they even doing?”

Another stallion overheard the colt and glanced his way. “From what I heard, they've hooked a shark.”

“REALLY?! Mom, can I go see?”

Punchline sighed. “I suppose we can leave our things for a moment. Go on, I'll catch up once I get my saddlebags.”

Without even responding, Laugh galloped off towards the end of the pier, hoping to see a real shark for once. He was so excited!

The griffon fisherman was fighting on the line with all his might. He had definitely hooked a big shark, and it wasn't coming up easily. “Come on, come on! I'll eat like a king tonight if I can pull this off!” He didn't notice the small colt galloping up behind him.

Laugh skidded to a stop a short distance away. “Hey mister, what kinda shark is it?!”

“Get up here… you WHINNYSSIPPI BITCH!!” With one final heave, the griffon hoisted the shark over the railing and slammed it down onto the pier. The shark writhed and thrashed about on the wooden planks, desperate to breathe, gnashing its teeth at anything in range. Several other fillies and colts rushed up as the griffon caught his breath and his minotaur friends congratulated him.

“What kinda shark is it, sir?” “Hey, that's a cool shark, what's it called?” “What's that?!” Inquiries spewed forth from the group of foals, and Laugh turned around, a smile on his face, ready to answer. With his youthful, seven year old voice, he proclaimed:

“It's a Whinnyssippi Bitch!”

The expert fishermen nearly fell off the pier laughing.

Author's Note:

"I'm so sorry, my son knows it is a blacktip shark now."

"Ma'am, we should be thanking you. We haven't laughed that hard in years."

Comments

[Venerable Ro]

Out of the mouths of babes...

[Alchemik]

I don't know how you've done it, but you've outdone yourself. Again.

[Eroraf86]

I can TOTALLY relate. Kids say the darnedest things sometimes. I should know—I was one of those kids. Depending on who you ask, I might still be one to this day.

Also, you misspelled "stories" as "sfories" in the short description. Just thought you should know.

[MLPMekarm]

I want to love that little pony now!!!

[RandomGuy101]

When he grows up, he is so going to look back on it and either think, "Oh my God I can't believe I actually did that!" or laugh.

As for me,