"That man? He's definitely got a skeleton in his closet. Us here at the Crew-Cut radio station are doing our best to find out what it is he's hiding. I've heard that the patents for his inventions aren't his. But I feel as if his deep secret is something far greater. He's definitely suspicious, that's for sure. There's even rumors that he killed his own father." The man on the radio continued to blabber on, only occasionally stopping for sponsorships. The quality of the radio was pretty crappy, as it was a rather old one. Radios had begun to go out of style, the only people still using them being old folks.
The radio stood on a tiny coffee table, which was also covered in random bits of papers depicting and describing what the octarians had been up too. Next to the table was a wooden chair, on which an old man slept on. That man's name was Craig Cuttlefish. He was in a deep sleep, dreaming of beating up random crooks. He stayed inside a tiny shack in Octo Valley, living there to keep an eye on the octarians. As he layed sleeping, a book suddenly fell from a book shelf attached to the a wall.
This woke Cuttlefish right up, who yelled, "WHO GOES THERE?! I'LL BEAT THE CARP OUTTA- Oh- ah." He got up from his chair and picked up the book, placing it back on the shelf. Then, he sat right back down, closing his eyes to go back to sleep. However, he found himself not being able to rest. He tried to get into different positions, not being able to sleep in any of them. Now, he had become hungry. Cuttlefish thought of fixing himself a few crab cakes, his stomach growling as he thought of it.
He got up again, looking through the jumbled mess that was his shack to find his portable cooker. Eventually, he found it, as well as his trusty spatula. Now, he needed his pan and ingredients. He rummaged around the tiny shack, managing to find a few ingredients, but still missing the rest. "I outta organize this ol' place someday... now where did I leave that pan!?" Cuttlefish muttered to himself. He sighed and looked up at the ceiling, nearly giving up on his search and going back to sleep. However, he spotted the spatula on top of a box on another bookshelf.
"Eh? I never remember leaving that up there! It must've been those darn octarians, messin' with my stuff! I can't even reach that shelf!" Cuttlefish dragged his chair over to the shelf and stood on it to better reach the spatula. His middle finger touched the tip of the handle, and Cuttlefish continued to try and pull it down. However, the flimsy chair began to shake. Despite the danger he was in, Cuttlefish continued to try and take the spatula from the shelf. As expected, the chair fell backwards, throwing Cuttlefish onto the floor.
"Ow ow- I think I broke a hip- carp, don't that hurt!" He laid on the floor, grasping his hip in pain. Luckily for him however, this pain passed quickly. Despite Cuttlefish's old age, he was actually quite fit. Cuttlefish got up from the mess, both the spatula and the box it stood on had fallen with him. Cuttlefish grabbed the spatula and held it up in the air, exclaiming, "Now, I can finally make my darn crabby cakes!" He looked down on the floor, seeing that the box which had fallen had opened up and scattered pictures and paper everywhere.
Cuttlefish sighed as he saw the mess he now had to pick up. He bent down and began to pick up the photos and papers. However, as he was picking them up, he noticed that a specific was of a younger version of him, with an old friend. He now remembered what this box contained. It was filled with objects, mostly photos and papers, from his youth. Instead of cooking up his crab cakes, he decided to put his chair back and sit on it, and reminisce about the past. He began to think of his old friends and experiences, fondly remembering it all.
To Be Continued