First off, he (and I'm making an assumption here on its sex) looked like a cross between Bun E. Carlos (drummer for Cheap Trick), Hoss (from "Bonanza") and... a manatee:
Second, the way this thing swam... it was mind-bogglingly manateeblian! I'd say, for ever 10 kicks I did, the Bunhossatee did one. One big one. "KERSPLORSH!" And then its arms! They never left the water and they did this strange, modified doggy-paddle motion -- like it was scooping ice-cream out of a shallow casserole dish with an oversized flipper.
And, oh, how the Bunhossatee could swim! Even though it was kicking/paddling at an almost imperceptible rate, it was keeping pace with me, and at times, overtook me! I was truly awestruck by this lumbering leviathan!
Sadly, I had to leave my new finny friend, and I headed off to the showers. While I was lathering, I heard the slap-a-dap of a giant fin heading toward the crapper. I rinsed the soap from my eyes just in time to see the stall door slam shut. Apparently, the Bunhossatee was preparing to liberate a little sea-lettuce in the loo. The sounds I heard emanating from that stall were so horrifying... they would've caused the sturdiest of sailing vessels to instantly explode and sink into the briney deep. I steadied myself by grabbing ahold of the shower nozzle -- tiles peeled away from the wall and lockers melted. The onslaught couldn't have lasted more than a few seconds, though it seemed to go on for hours.
When it was over, there was deafening silence. A thick, soupy haze hung in the air -- it smelled of burnt flesh and krill. I peered through my stinging eyelids at what remained of the stall. It was a sickening heap of twisted metal, singed toilet paper and urinal cakes.
And the Bunhossatee was nowhere to be found.
I'm lucky to have escaped with my life, today. I witnessed a beast, the likes of which no one has ever seen (nor smelted)... and which no one may ever see again, henceforth.
I salute you, Bunhossatee -- mysterious mer-man of the deep.
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