Morals Be Dammed

Bronson agrees to take a passenger to the other shore. 300 words

Morals Be Dammed

“I say old chap; could you help me cross the water?” said a voice from the shore.

Bronson looked him over from his perch on top of his lodge.

“For a reward, of course I will.”

“Thank you, sir. I have the perfect reward for you once I’m on the other shore,” the creature said.

Dreams of poplar trees filled Bronson’s head. He allowed his passenger to get on his back, then began to swim to the other shore.

“Watch how you go. You’re getting me wet!”

“Can’t you go any faster?”

“Don’t know who I am? You should!”

When they finally got close to the shore, Bronson slapped his tail on the water hard. This caused Sir Hiss the snake to go flying through the air and land in the water with a significant splash.

“You promised to take me to shore, varlet!”

“What kind of fool do you take me for? “

“Whatever do you mean, beaver?”

“The only reward you’re likely to give me is a poisonous bite. Good riddance to bad rubbish!”

Sir Hiss gave him a fake hurt look.

“Why would you think that?”

“You are a {b|snake and that’s the only reward you’re likely to give.”

“If you knew the danger you were in, why did you bring me across.”

“To prove that a snake may change its skin, but never its true nature.”

“That doesn’t really answer my question.”

“I brought you across since there’s always a chance, I was wrong.”

“How did you know you weren’t?” Hiss asked curiously.

“Your rattle started not long after we left the other shore. I knew then I had to get you before you got me.”

“Well played, Beaver, well played,” Hiss said as he slithered wetly away.

Bronson nodded then swam home.