Shank A Bitch 3 Day Six: The Handsman Cometh (10/71 Alive)

THE BELUGANING OF THE END

Chwoka's death is slow, painful and incredibly satisfying to everyone involved. He certainly wasn't a zombie, no sir.

Curiously, the various WHALE BATTLERS seem to have vanished; presumably summoned to their yacht antechambers by COSMIC WHALE SUMMONS.

Chwoka was an INSANE TELEVISION SURVIVALIST (see Airey, D2 start). He would have won if he was the LAST MAN STANDING.

With the mob's hunger for a proper shanking finally sated, the doors of the hangar swing open to reveal a view of the Vista Paolo's bay, ready to stage the EVENT OF THE CETANTURY.

Celestial narwhals float through the atmosphere, far above the fleet of flying humpback lighting technicians frantically doing a last few rigging checks.

The orca security pack stands at attention, saluting their blue whale commander. Its fluke looms over the bay, ready to signal the beginning of the press conference with a thunderous clap.

No-one knows what those sperm whales are doing.

The shankers set out toward seaside, salvaged vessels of all shapes and sizes standing at the ready to transport them to the press conference to take place in the center of the bay. Shanking enmity is temporarily ignored in the face of the sheer spectacle, and so the crowd is shocked and dismayed to discover Scoffles' body washed up on the shoreline.

Scoffles was a Double-Vested Bomb Shanker! (see Donut, D2 start). He was the only WHALE BATTLER to perish in the Whale Dimension.

The rest (including the ghost of yd12k) await within...



THE PORPRESS CONFERENCE.

All shankers, living or dead find themselves on the cavernous recessed deck of the S.S. WHALENAUGHT, largest craft ever to swim the seven seas. An impressive sight indeed, rendered more impressive by the sheer amount of cetaceans present to ensure the proceedings run perfectly.

With Vista Paolo's shankers the source of this battle's contestants, each of that group has received a rare invitation to experience the conference firsthand (alongside the usual WHALE JOURNALISTS). The rest of the world must watch the live-stream carried to them via current-borne plankton-fiber.


Art Dalm!

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