Ode to Ralphie

Once upon a time, in a land faraway, lived a laid-back lobster named Ralphie. In his coastal abyss offshore Maine, Ralph leisurely did what all lobsters do: swim, eat, and get fat. By very late winter, he weighed in at a pound and a quarter. He was a happy camper, that is, until February 28th rolled around. A thousand miles away in the sleepy southern fishing village of Englewood, Ralphie's fate was decided. A Maine snowbird, eager to feast on the succulent white meat of the lobster dripping with butter, began flying lobsters in daily. Ralph was now a legal resident of the Florida waters! Ralphie never was a man (ummm...or crustacean) of many words--until his beautiful white ass was plucked by the Huegens for a grand feast Saturday night.










In his squeaky voice, Ralphie yelled "Save me! Save me! His cries went unheeded as Lee and Jan piggybacked all four lobsters in a cooler with Ralph on top. Ralphie fared better than his three butt-smelling buddies underneath. Thankful Ralph was on top still scratching the cooler lid. The ice block numbed his tail, but not his brain. "Pay the ransom" was his rally cry.

Five hours passed, and he was thrusted into this weird world of inanimation--until the cooler lid was popped. Free, free at last! Ralphie and his cohorts breathed the fresh air in the Huegen household.

But wait...suddenly the motley crew landed tails first in the boiling, steamy waters. The end came quickly and thankfullly, without pain. Ralphie was now but a shell of himself.. His body ravaged by vultures who sucked and picked the life out of him He'll go done in history as the best damn lobster in all of North Port!