Bobby sat down on the end of the dock, and patted the space beside him. "I can't believe you've never been fishing, Kurt," he said as the blue-furred mutant sat down beside him. "Weren't there a lot of fishermen in the Bible?"
"Zey used nets," Kurt replied in his soft German accent. He looked over the edge of the dock, and cautiously dipped his three-toed feet into the clear water.
"Ah right," Bobby replied, chuckling. He handed one of the two simple fishing rigs to Kurt, and pulled a small can out of the tackle box he carried. Popping the lid off the can, he looked inside and gently shook the contents around.
Trying to manipulate the tiny handle on the reel of the fishing rod with his large fingers, Kurt eyed Bobby, curiously. "Vhat's in de can?"
"Worms. Our bait. Pull one out and put it on the hook."
The blue mutant reached tentatively into the can, and made a face as he withdrew a slender, pink, wriggling earthworm. "Ach, ist slimy. Gross."
"Yeah, well... No no, don't just wrap it around," he said, grinning. "You have to spear it."
"Vhy?" Kurt asked, making a mildly uncomfortable face.
"Well," Bobby replied, running a hand over his hair, "because otherwise it'll slip off." He dipped into the can for a worm of his own, and placed it on the hook before looking over to check Kurt's progress again.
"No, tying it in a knot won't work either. You have to stick the hook into it." He added, exasperatedly.
Kurt hesitated. "I don't vant to hurt it."
"The fish won't care about hurting it," Bobby laughed, patting his companion on the back.
"I..I can't do it."
"C'mon, Kurt, he won't feel it for but a second..."
"Nein, I mean I can't do it. My fingers." Kurt held up his hand and waggled his three thick fingers.
"Oh!" Bobby exclaimed, setting his own rod down. "I forgot you only have two fingers. Sorry about that, here, I'll do it." He reached over and took the hook and the worm from Kurt's hands. When he looked up, he found himself under scrutiny by yellow eyes. Kurt was staring at him in apparent disbelief. "What?"
The blue mutant blinked, and smiled a little. "You. you forgot? Really?"
"Yeah, why?" Bobby replied, uncertainly.
The German man gave a small laugh, and shrugged. "I don't... I mean... Ist de first time someone ever forgot I vas different." He smiled a pointy-toothed smile, his yellow eyes crinkling a bit.
Bobby waved a hand, grinning. "Heh. Different is in the eye of the beholder. If none of us are alike, who's to say which one of us is different? Now give me that, and I'll bait the hook for you."
"You are very vise for being so young," Kurt said softly, wincing as the hook stabbed through the worm's body. "You must have... ACH!"
"Yeah, sometimes they squirt when you stick them on the hook," Bobby explained, wiping his hands off on his jeans.
"Ist disgusting," Kurt moaned. He looked over at the bank, where Logan was standing, casting out a line over and over. "Logan is using plastic insect. Vhy must ve use dis ting?"
"Logan's fishing for bass," Bobby said patiently, casting his line into the water with a plop. "He's using a lure. We're fishing for catfish, so we use live bait."
"Ah. Und dis...dis...vhat do you call it? Vill catch fish?"
"Nightcrawler," Bobby supplied, casting Kurt's line into the water.
"Ja?"
"Nightcrawler."
"Vhat!"
"No," Bobby laughed, "THAT, is a Nightcrawler. The worm."
There was a long pause, and then the softly-accented voice replied, "Ze vorm ist named Nightcrawler?"
"Welllll. 'Named' is not really the right word. That's just what they're called. They come out at night." Bobby took in a little slack as a fish began nibbling at his bait.
"Bizarre. Are zhere Daycrawlers too?"
"Let's just go fishing, OK?"