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Caught one last summer, swear it winked at me. Big, meaty, silver - I’m yellin’, “Look at this champ!” Happiest day ever, til I cooked it. Smelled like heaven, tasted like dreams, then - oh man, stomach apocalypse. Wife’s like, “Told ya, dummy!” Escolar’s a trickster, man, total catfish vibes - get it? Fish humor! “That’s what she said!” Shoulda known - it’s rare ‘round here, deep diver, 2,000 feet down. Fishermen call it “the laxative fish” - ain’t that a riot?

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On my way back, I pass by the beach. The sun’s settin’, and it’s beautiful. I stop for a sec, just takin’ it all in. San-Ferdinando-di-Puglia is gorgeous, man. The waves crashin’, the sky all orange and pink. Makes you forget about the craziness of the day. But then, I hear a kid yellin’. He’s runnin’ after a seagull, and I’m like, “Dude, chill! It’s just a bird!” Kids, man.

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