It was a long flight to San Diego. I had a lot of time to think. You know, being alone and all.

I hated them. Skipper, Kowalski, Rico, and . . . yes, even Private. They all rejected me, sure. But they took so much more away from me.

First, they took away my adoring legion of fans. They took away the one thing that gave me joy every day that I lived in the zoo. It's all I had. Myself, a roomy tank, and the fans.

Then I gave them my hearts. All three of them. I willingly spent time with these little fluffballs. I enjoyed my time with them. Then they took my hearts and shattered them. Then waddled all over their remains.

I gave them my fame. I accepted the fact that the humans loved the penguins more, and only loved me because of my association with them. I had become content with the fact that the penguins were my fans. They were the only fans that loved me just for being me. I was getting to the point where I didn't mind that much. Then they took all of that away too. All because of a stupid fight over the fact that I cared about them.

They probably don't even care that I'm gone. They probably haven't even noticed. I was better off without them. This is why octopuses are alone.

Because sometimes it's better to be alone. No one can hurt you.

— § —

When we finally arrived in Southern California, I actually started to anticipate my new home as I was transported by truck to the aquarium. This could be my chance to start over. I would have new fans, my own tank, and no penguins around to steal my spotlight. It would be perfect. I felt the truck come to a stop and soon after, a human opened the back and carted my tiny temporary tank out. My eyes stung at the sunlight after being in the dim lighting of the truck for the past couple hours.

My anticipation grew as I was carted through the front gates. There were humans everywhere. I watched a few children chasing each other near the Wild Arctic area. I breathed slowly. This was my chance. I promised myself that on my first day, I'd make a name for myself. The humans here would know Dave the octopus.

"Ah, crap," the human that was carting me said as he came to a stop. "I forgot the paperwork."

He wheeled my transport tank off to the side and started jogging back to the entrance so he could retrieve the said paperwork from his truck. There was a crowd of humans around, but so far, none had taken notice of me. They're just distracted, I told myself. Silly distracted humans.

"The penguins are so cute!" I heard someone say. I frowned and looked around. The back of my tank was made of steel, so I couldn't see what exhibit I was sitting in front of. Finally, a sign caught my eye to my left.

Penguin Encounter.

You've got to be kidding me.

Out of all the exhibits this guy could've left me next to, it just had to be this one, didn't it? Was Life mocking me? Because I feel like I'm being mocked.

Okay, fine, fine. It's cool. I'm fine. I mean, what are the odds of the same thing happening twice? — in a row?

I saw a woman stop near my tank, although she was looking at the penguins. She was holding a small child, who turned to me and cocked her head curiously.

This is my chance! I took a deep breath and smiled. Then I closed my eyes and blended into the bottom of my tank so it'd seem like I disappeared. I peeked a little to see that the child was squinting at the glass, as if trying to see where I went. When she least expected it, I popped back up and turned back to my regular purple color in the blink of an eye, pressing my face to the glass with a happy grin. The girl flinched and gasped in surprise. Then she started to cry.

She — started — to cry.

My smile faded and my jaw hung open in shock. The mother turned to her child and asked her what was wrong. She pointed at me, and then wrapped her arms around her mother's neck, calling me a scary monster. She also gave me some name — who is this "Randall" and why am I being compared to him?

The mother started rocking her child and taking her away from me, telling her everything was okay. A few other humans sideways glanced at me, either became disgusted or disinterested, and continued gawking at the penguins. I slumped to the bottom of my tank, completely disheartened. I wished the man from the truck would hurry up.

The crowd grew on either side of me in the next couple of minutes and I could hear everyone going on and on about how cute the penguins were. Then, just when I thought all hope was lost, a man came to my tank and stopped in front of it. I perked up as my hopes skyrocketed.

"I can't see the penguins, man!" he complained. My hopes then crashed and burned as the man from the truck returned and pushed me out of the way with an apologetic look to the visitor as he joined the other humans in praising the penguins' cuteness.

It's fine, I thought. It'll get better. Can't last forever right? Nothing lasts forever.

I felt a little better after telling myself that. I repeated it over and over in my head.

Nothing lasts forever. Nothing lasts forever.

Nothing lasts forever. Just like my life in Central Park.

— § —

I soon discovered that I had gotten the saying wrong. It's not nothing lasts forever.

It's nothing good lasts forever.

Like my previous fame. Like my relationship with the penguins.

Ooh, new roomy tank. Whoop-de-doo. The good news? My tank was nowhere near the penguin habitat. The man that delivered me had taken a wrong turn when he entered the marine park. I was on the other side of the place. That's a good thing, right? No more penguins around to steal my spotlight.

No real ones, anyway.

Yep. Right outside my tank is this little souvenir shop. There's this whole shelf covering an entire wall. Guess what stuffed animal stocks them?

If you guessed penguins, then congratulations! You smart little human.

Every day, I see people, young and old, going into the souvenir shop and coming back out with a penguin plush and a brochure telling them where to find the penguin habitat. No octopus plushies. A few people came by and watched me for a moment, but despite my efforts to entertain, they quickly became bored and moved on. Sometimes, when someone showed a miniscule amount of interest in me, someone would come to them and show them the penguin plush they'd just bought and drag them to the souvenir shop so they could get one too.

Am I the only one seeing the pattern, here?

These penguins are ruining my life!

I took a deep breath. Okay, maybe I was overreacting. So, it happened twice. First at the Central Park Zoo, and then here, at the San Diego Marine Park. Outshined by the adorable penguins. Besides, there had to be someone that liked octopuses, right? They just hadn't come to my habitat yet. So what if I'd been there for a month? These things take time! Just like they say, all good things come to those who wait.

So that's exactly what I did. I waited. I passed the time by absentmindedly floating about my tank, forcing myself to not look over at the souvenir shop, longing for the kind of attention that the penguins got . . . Focus!

As much as I tried to fight it, I kept thinking about my four little fluffballs. I found them in my dreams — back when we were a family. One moment, I'd long for the days that we spent together, roaming about the city, performing tricks for the humans, both parties learning new things. The next moment, I resented them all over again. I'd given them everything I had: my fans, my fame, my time, and my love. They took it all for themselves, leaving me in the dust. Now I felt like I had no more love to give.

But no matter. Forget them. They were the past. They probably didn't even care that I was rotting away in a new zoo now. No more ugly, slimy, bossy octopus around to spoil their fun. Good riddance.

Who needs them? I'm my own octopus. I've spent all my life alone. It's no biggie. So, I had a couple good months with someone else (well, four someone elses). I just had to get back into the swing of things. The natural order of octopus life. Yep, that's me. The old Dave. The way I used to be.

Without the fans, but still. You get the idea.

— § —

It was after closing. I had settled at the front of my tank, leaning against the glass. It was dark. There was very dim lighting, so I couldn't see anything but shapes in the darkness. A plant there. A brochure stand there. A security guard smoking way over there. I mainly stared at the souvenir shop across the way. It was dark inside, but I knew exactly what lay beyond.

Those blasted penguin plushies.

Sometimes I sat there and I imagined them breaking free, hopping along on their little cotton-filled feet. They'd hop right up to my habitat and taunt me. Shaking their plush little tushies, smiling and waving, stacking on top of each other to get a better look at the creature in the tank. I told them to go away. I yelled at them, banging on the glass of my tank. "Go away! Leave me alone!" They'd be there one moment, and then I'd blink and they'd be gone and I'd sigh with relief.

Things could be worse. I could be going crazy.

— § —

Another day bites the dust.

I've gotten to the point where I don't do squat. I've given up on trying to get attention from the humans. They can have their precious penguins.

I have a lovely assortment of rocks in my habitat. I spent some time sorting them into little piles first by color, then by size. It only took me about, say, forty-something hours. Suddenly, I had an idea.

For an hour I took the different colored and sized rocks and assorted them just so, recalling the very tiniest details. I smiled sadly at my finished masterpiece.

I'd created 2D models of my four little fluffballs. I used the soot underneath the rocks to make them appear to have "fluff." I'd actually done a pretty good job. They looked just like them. I frowned as the rocks morphed, and suddenly, a hazy image of the penguins appeared in front of me on top of them, each over their respective rock portrait. Skipper folded his flippers.

"What are you doing, Dalek?" he asked irritably. "Making rock portraits? You're even lamer than we thought."

The penguins laughed.

"Seriously, Dave," Kowalski broke in, "why are you still hung up over us? You know we never loved you."

"What?" I protested in a weak voice.

"Really," Private agreed with a laugh. "You're just an old, ugly octopus. What would four little penguins want to do with you?"

"But, I thought . . ." My voice trailed.

Skipper laughed. "Hey, guys," he said, turning to the others, "who knew? It thinks."

The penguins laughed again.

"Stop," I said. "Stop laughing at me."

"You're so pathetic," Skipper said, still laughing. "No wonder the humans ignore you."

"Everyone ignores him," Kowalski corrected, causing the group to erupt into another fit of laughter.

"Stop!" I said again, my voice rising. "You're not real!"

"Of course we're real!" Skipper argued. "We're the same four little 'fluffballs' that conned you into those stupid trips to the city. You think we wanted you there? You were just a glorified chauffeur."

"Aw, come now, Dave," Kowalski taunted. "Surely you remember us widdle penguins that supposedly stole your hearts. Could you be more gullible?"

"That's another thing," Private broke in. "What's with the whole 'three hearts' thing? Could you be more of a freak?"

The penguins continued to laugh and I felt anger rising in my throat.

"Stop it! None of you are real!" I protested, holding my arms to the sides of my head and trying to shake the images from my mind.

They still laughed, and it seemed to be growing louder, ricocheting around inside my head.

"STOP!"

With a cry of defiance, I lunged forward and scattered all the rocks to the sides, distorting and smothering the images of the penguins. Their laughing stopped, but I still thrashed from side to side, ensuring that they were gone. I threw rocks in all directions, making sure they were as far from each other as possible. I didn't realize until it was too late that I'd thrown several rocks into the glass of my tank, and before I could do anything about it, the glass erupted and water poured out onto the floor, sucking me out with it.

I slid across the floor and straight into — wouldn't you know it? — the shelves with the penguin plushies on it. They rained down onto me as people panicked around me, confused as to what had just happened.

When I realized what was all over me, I became — well, I'm not sure. I want to say enraged, but it seemed to be more than that. I was hurt. And grieved. And distressed.

I felt . . . feral.

I blacked out for a few minutes, and when I came to, someone had shot me with a tranquilizer.

There was a lot of stuffing around me, along with crying children and horrified adults. I distantly heard a piece of what the security guard said into his radio as he grabbed me up with a catch pole.

"Yeah, it's that octopus. It went crazy and busted out of his tank. Then it ripped apart some of those popular penguin plushies in the souvenir shop. I think we should go ahead and transfer him. You get the paperwork and I'll get a shipping container ready."

Right before I completely passed out, the last thing I saw was the faces of unnerved humans — adult and children alike — all whispering the same thing.

"It's nothing but a monster. A hideous monster."

— § —

Note: The quotes used in this chapter were, "Sometimes it's better to be alone. No one can hurt you," said by Meg (portrayed by Susan Egan) and "Okay, fine, fine. It's cool. I'm fine," said by Hades (portrayed by James Woods) in Hercules (1997); and "Another day bites the dust," said by Alex (portrayed by Ben Stiller) in Madagascar 3: Europe's Most Wanted. The little girl that called Dave "Randall" was a reference to Monster's Inc. (2001); Randall is, coincidentally, a purple-colored monster whose ability is to blend into his surroundings. And yes, "Dalek" was a Dr. Who reference.

Next chapter will be posted on August 5th, 2023.