Once Upon an Ocean
“Listen here child I will tell you one more story. And I’ll make it quick so you’re not up too late,” Exclaimed Grandma.
“Once upon an ocean lived a small sea turtle. All of his childhood his siblings called him grouchy, he never believed them though. But as he grew up, that’s what he came to be.
Now he thinks he thinks he’s the king of the ocean because he’s the oldest (367 years old). Or in his words, not ours, the wisest.
Mystical Mike
Motto: to have a life you have to be king or no life for you
A few years later his first grandson was born. His name was Alberto Frank.
Alberto was the best grandson you could wish for, but to Mystical Mike thought he was just another annoying fish in the sea. Mike thought he was despicable, for one reason he hated his name.
As Alberto grew up he earned a nickname: Alby.
The Story of Alberto Frank
Alberto’s life started as an egg, just an egg. As he hatched he scrambled to the ocean as fast as his little flippers could take him. But sadly he was the only one alive out of the 32 eggs.
Before his mother swam away from shore she told Mike to keep watch for the many adorable baby sea turtles to paddle into the ocean.
Mike met up with Alberto and they paddled home.
As they swam home Mike realized that he didn’t like the small turtle. Instead of bringing him home, Mike decided to bring him to the neighbors. As Mike slapped the door with attitude the neighbor’s wife answered in a respectful manner.
‘What would you like Mike-n-Ike,’ cheerfully asked Wilda? (Mother turtle of an aggressive 2). ‘My name is Mystical Mike not… whatever you said, Mike-n-Ike something,’ Mike emphasized. ‘I’m sorry Mike-n-Ike what did you say,’ asked Wilda. ‘You call me Mike-n-Ike one more time you disturbing creature or you will never see yourself in the mirror again,’ yelled Mike.
‘You take him in or I will call you some stupid nickname like Envious Wild-a Bean,’ screeched Mike. ‘All right I’ll take him in but please tell me his name,’ exclaimed Wilda. ‘His name is… hmm… ALBERTO,’ screamed Mike. ‘I don’t like that I’ll call him Alby,’ said Wilda. ‘No it’s Frank,’ hollered Mike. ‘Now shut up for a sec. and let me think… Alby Frank, Ta
Ta,’ loudly said Wilda.
“Huh 9 ‘o’ clock, sorry you’ll have to hear the rest tomorrow night,” whispered the grandma.