His razor sharp tentacle reached out to me.  Normally I would be afraid of this terrible giant of the deep, but this one was in pain.  Her name was Copty.  She was a knife-o-coptor, and now she is my friend.

 

            Knife-o-coptors are a rare species of Psuedofauna that are half knife, half octopus and half helicopter.  Most are vicious killers that lurk in the sky and the sea eating sea lions and sea tigers.  Most live off the coast of Africa near frontier villages inhabited by ancient peoples.  These peoples have always had legends about the one they call Chin-Burry-Na-Su or “The One with Sharp Fingers”.  Few have been spotted in the wild, but all who have seen it remember it.  All we know about knife-o-coptors is from detailed artists renderings using the highest grade technology and computer knife-o-coptor simulation software.  I am proud to say that I have met a wild knife-o-coptor.

 

            I was walking along the beach, when I heard a yelp. I thought it was baby seal, and was about to kick it when I realized that it was not a seal at all.  It had a slimy, gooey body that writhed with tentacles.  One tentacle had a knife on it.  From its head, a large bone-spire connected to an X shaped bone pattern two feet above its head.  Two of the bones were broken in half.  I could tell that Copty was in trouble.  Having read at my local library about the feeding habits of knife-o-coptors, I reached in my bag and handed her a peanut-butter and ham sandwich.  Knife-o-coptors rarely eat peanut butter and ham sandwiches in the wild, but I figured it couldn’t hurt.  A strange fact about knife-o-coptors is that every time they are seen, the viewer is left with a strange sentence left in their head. “Posso agradar tento uma manteiga de amendoim e presunto intercala? For centuries, no one has known what this cryptic message has meant.  But upon eating my delicious sandwich, Copty said in English, “thank you for allowing me to try your wonderful sandwich.” We started talking and she related that her name was Copty.  I was so stunned that I forgot to ask her about the intricacies of knifeocoptordom.  Now, I know what you’re thinking.  “Right, not only did you meet a knife-o-coptor, but it actually spoke Portuguese and English?! Come on!” and you’re correct.  However, the knife-o-coptor does not speak, in the traditional sense.  It uses a brain capacity much like sonar to communicate directly to the communication cortex of the brain.  What is audible is a sort of clicking and squeaking sound that resembles a whale singing and a man wearing wet rubber boots on linoleum.

            I helped her with her copter-bones.  Much like the antlers of some ungulates, knife-o-coptors tend to shed their old copters for new ones.  However, the bone structures, unlike in deer and moose, are not restricted to males.  Quite the opposite, they are used for advanced purposes by females.  No one knows why females have copters while males do not.  Perhaps it is an evolutionary tactic to spread her level of transportation in order to achieve a more balanced mating process.  If a female does not like a certain male population, she simply files away.  Soon, my work on her copters was done.  She seemed grateful; or as grateful as a 300 pound sea-knife-octopus-helicopter could be.

It was then that Copty left.  She slunk back into the sea, and with her, my doubts of the existence of knife-o-coptors.


This work written by Zach Claywell. Reproduction requests or general questions should be directed to Zach Claywell care of Zach Claywell at yahoo dot com.

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