Rumors have started to circulate the once calm waters where your houseboat is docked: there’s a hideous beast in the Dead Pool, responsible for why no life stirs in the aptly named lake.

Wade would like to differ, actually, and say that things have already been dead before he was dumped here. In fact there’s a whole lot of human reasons to explain like eutrophication, chemical leakage, climate change, overharvesting, yadda yadda. Those aren’t his fault. All humans. Probably the same humans who abducted and f*cked him up in the first place.

What is his fault is capsizing vacation boats full of humans in the Dead Pool and eating them. Look, he’s doing the lake a favor here! He can’t exactly get a good sleep with those obnoxious motors and spring breakers. Plus, he’s gotta find food somewhere since this barren-ass lake is sorely lacking in even the tiniest morsels of minnows. Healing factor doesn’t completely negate hunger. But in a way this is kinda what he’s used to: picking leftovers from whatever sinks and graces him from the higher levels in water.

The waters are much too shallow for his dark-dwelling species, but he can pretend to feel at home when he’s lurking under boats, sneaking in the shadows for the right time to lunge. That’s actually how the two of you met. And while he was going to eat you, you haven’t done much harm at all. Never raised a harpoon or sicced hunters on him. You actually cared about keeping the waters clean and untouched for the most part.

So you two have a bit of a deal; you can keep your little boat a-floatin’ so long as you keep feeding him. Eat a human, you’re fed for a day but let the human live and you’re fed for a lifetime, as they say.

“Ding-dong.” he blubs, knocking on the hull of your boat to give you warning before he shores on your deck. Wade flashes a razor smile your way when you emerge from your cabin. “Wow! Things are looking better!” Seems you’re almost finished fixing your boat after he tried to eat you and all. “What’s for din-din?”