How I Spent My Summer Vacation (or Buffet on the California Coastline)

a Case Closed™ Exclusive
by Manny Fatback

While taking a working-vacation out to the Sunny State of California, yours truly, Manny Fatback, did his best to keep entertained. After touring the wine sampling circuit and making short work of a midget tossing ring, I finally hit the coast and decided to relax with some snorkelling, scuba diving and Wild Turkey (and after doing so, I recommend partaking of these activities in that very order). I’d been soaking up the rays for close to two days when I caught the scent of a story on the wind. At first it smelled like a drowned hobo, bloated and washed up on shore. With a bit more investigating, however, I found that even the most rotten smell might hide the aroma of a rose.

Everyone has seen ‘Jaws’. Maybe it was in the cinema, as a talkie. Perhaps you saw it on VHS tape (or BETA, if you were one of the unfortunates who drove down to Radio Shack in your Edsel and picked up a Betamax). God Forbid you saw it on Laserdisc. But if you didn’t see it, then you must have been living on the bottom of the ocean.

It was Steven Spielberg’s big fish tale that brought us all to the ocean and gave us something to believe in. And that something was random shark attacks. How could a movie filled with a man-eating Great White and that likeable kid from ‘American Graffiti’ (and less likeable teacher/potential molester from ‘Mr. Holland’s Opus’) not be both entertaining… and educational? It taught us about that Doberman of the sea… the shark.

Sharks. Incredible creatures adapted to live in the ocean depths... or bloodthirsty eating machines intent on killing man? While we at Case Closed™ aren’t prone to media hype, the answer to this question is clear. While scientists and environmental ‘activists’ continue with their pro-shark mumbo-jumbo, yours truly has discovered the true nature of these man-eaters. And it’s everything you ever were afraid of…

You’ve all read the statistics. Me, I can’t waste the time. I know that there are probably close to 123,000 shark attacks annually, just off one coast alone. And sure, you might be more likely to be killed by a Coke machine than a shark, but why would you even bother to go swimming with a Coke machine? Regardless… down in California, I followed my nose and discovered that in one ocean side community, almost a half-dozen surfers had been gobbled up by a very toothy adversary. Of course, the scientific community immediately pointed a finger at a regular, run of the mill Great White. But when I found out that one victim had died in the back seat of his Gremlin, I knew something was amiss.

I went to our Case Closed ™ panel of experts and showed them the crime scene photos (voted Too Grisly To Put On This Site) and they were shocked. Even our resident Sharkologist, Dr. Fantastic, felt that the odds of getting attacked in the backseat of a Gremlin at high tide were astronomical. So… knowing something was up, I continued my search. Little did I know what I would find.

Moving from the last crime scene, I followed a trail of plankton, dirt and shark droppings to a small bungalow on the edge of town. Stripping off my shoes and setting aside my half-finished bottle of Cutty Sark, I crept up to the back of the house and peered over the fence. There I saw a horrific melding of man and beast. A genetic freak even more horrifying than Michael Jackson or Barry Manilow. It was clear that ‘Jaws’ was a movie that had been romanticized by one woman in the worst way possible.

Hidden away behind this bungalow was the killer of six surfers… a half-boy, half-shark I came to know as… Shark Boy!


(Beware Shark Boys in your back yard!)

I found Shark Boy sitting poolside in the California sunshine, his parents’ bungalow throwing down a patch of shade. Nibbling on a license plate, an old tire and a bucket of chum, he looked like your average half-boy-half-shark. But beneath that calm exterior lay something darker... something I felt had led to the death of six mind-numbingly stupid California surfers… and perhaps Shark Boy’s own parents! But never afraid of a challenge, I marched straight into the yard and confronted this finned freak. Even though my life was at risk, I had to find out where this genetic abnormality had come from, and what he wanted from the normal world. Surprisingly, Shark Boy agreed to sit down for a face-to-snout meeting.

“...It seems like I’ve led the perfect life.” Shark Boy told me. “But it hasn’t been all calm water, lemme tell you.”


(Could this be Shark Boy's Grisly Handiwork? Pictureologists from Kodack say sure!)

Has Shark Boy suffered as an outcast in the normal world? Perhaps, but even he can’t explain how two human parents could give birth to a shark child. When asked about his parent’s honeymoon to Florida, where his mother was seen swimming among sharks, Shark Boy bared rows of razor sharp teeth and said, “I don’t talk about my parents... it leaves a bad taste in my mouth.” (Go to www.sharkboyvmanny.com for more of this amazing interview).

Following the example of every suspense thriller on the market, I headed straight to the local library. Using periodicals, back issues of newspapers and the Internet, I discovered that Shark Boy’s parents had vanished under mysterious circumstances years earlier. Though a police investigation into the disappearance uncovered nothing, we here at Case Closed™ (If It Ain’t True, Prove It®) turned up evidence suggesting that Shark Boy ate his own parents! In my exclusive interview, Shark Boy hinted at the very possibility.

“...I’m not saying I did it, but if I did...what evidence would there be? I can digest anything,” he said.

Did Shark Boy eat his own parents? Was he related to Bruce the Shark from ‘Jaws’? Had too much Cutty Sark and Wild Turkey caused me to hallucinate this entire ordeal? As our panel of experts is prone to say… Not Likely!

I came away from my California adventure just a bit wiser. Shark Boy went on to tell me that he often moved up and down the coastline, sampling swimmers from town to town. In his own braggadocio, Shark Boy claimed that he was responsible for more deaths than a dozen Coke machines combined. Whether there’s any truth to his claims or not, one thing is clear… not every Shark Attack is what it appears. And even spending your time on the beach, in your car, or even sitting in front of your television, might not keep you safe.

Thanks to my working-vacation and my fine bourbon, I learned that you can’t trust all statistics. There’s one thing even more dangerous than a Coke machine or a shark… or a shark with a Coke machine strapped to its back. That’s a half-human, half-shark with a very bad attitude.


Case Closed!™