Mibbet covered her ears, and crouched low as the floating horror let forth a bone chilling quack. (To most frogs all quacks are bone chilling, but this particular specimen of duckiness was a tad worse than the usual, being about the size of a ship will do that for you.) Then the two titanic terrors crashed together with a truly titanic splash.

Mibbet barely had time to think as the little jolly boat was overturned, and she found out the hard way why you do not get a full back tattoo immediately before a full body dip in salt water.

OUCH OUCH OUCH OUCH BOH BOLLOCKS, OUCH. She cursed, as The Mer valiantly battled to get the dingy little dinghy back to its rightful place, and as water free as possible. Mibbet meanwhile clung to the upturned vessel tightly, wishing that the water would just stay still for a bit. Sadly it seemed the sea was rather unlikely to do that, in part due to the oversized guppy and deadly duck duelling nearby.

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Aboard The Wellerman they were faring somewhat better at staving off the effects of the gigantic battle nearby, a fortunate side effect of extra tonnage is being a lot harder to capsize. But of course once you are, well you tend to stay that way. They had lost a single crew member overboard, but they would be fine, for now they battled as best they could to keep the ship under control, and away from the thrashy splashing scrap.

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The Don was angry, The Don was HUNGRY, and now there was a truly massive prey in range of his jaws. But he was confused, his bites seemed to squeak off this preys skin. An experience that was definitely new to any megolodon, much less THE Don, notorious the world over. Though his response to the failed attack wasn’t some ridiculous “this has never happened to me before” line, but instead to bite harder. A technique that never failed a shark.

He held on and tried to pull the damn thing down, only to have it bob back up, every bloody time. Still those tentacley bits were tasty, and were nowhere near as chewy as the rest. Though tough to get to as they kept drawing them back in like a shell. He was going to END this creature, then figure out how to eat the rubber plucker. Everything else was background noise by now.

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The Quacken was livid, this thing had torn off several tentacles, and kept coming back for more, it had even managed to scratch their rubbery yellow skin. At the moment it was thinking as soon as it got a good hold on this overgrown goldfish, it was sushi. It drew in the tendrils once more, trying to lure it within range. But the damn thing was learning, this was not going to be an easy fight. they turned up and flashed their fanged beak into the water, giant yellow butt up in the air, as it gave vent to another disapproving QUACK. That creature had the edge when it came to speed, and it could bite hard, but it had no cover.

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The Quacken bit down once more, snaking out multiple tendrils to try to ensnare The Don, trying to get tendrils into the damn creatures gills. But that wasn’t so easy, all sharks have a lot of biting area, and not a lot of gill, and they aren’t foolish enough to let their opponent near them. As soon as The Quacken got close to their elusive prize they got bitten, and things bitten by a giant shark have a tendency to stay bitten. Both sides were starting to realise they had bitten off more than they could chew, but neither side was in any position to back off. One side couldn’t swim away fast enough, and couldn’t risk presenting their bare back to their opponent. While the other, as megafauna tend to, was permanently running the gauntlet on the brink of starvation. They needed to feed, and soon, or they really would go belly up.

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The Don was beyond all reason by now, all it could think was rip, rend, tear, destroy, rip, rend, tear, destroy, hungry, angry, rip, rend, tear, destroy. They didn’t have anything left in them but determination to take down a giant meal. As they came in for another strike, this time seizing the tendrils, and pulling downwards. They would drag their food down, it would sink, they would feed. HUNGER.

They tried their hardest to drag the creature down, only to have it tip itself. Then flashing, tearing, what was this feeling??? Pain? PAIN? It was being bitten back, how? The creature clung to it, long tendrils holding them in place. Where the hell did all those extra mouths come from? Was that what that creature looked like inside? For the first time The Don knew Fear. Fear and pain were like old friends, you learn to hurt you learn to be afraid. The Don had not felt that for many years, but it was determined not to back down for such reasons. It bit down, ripping and tearing relentlessly at anything within reach of their maw. STUPID CREATURE, I DO NOT FEAR OTHER CREATURES, OTHER CREATURES FEAR ME, AND YOU WILL LEARN TOO, THE PAIN WILL TEACH. RIP, REND TEAR, RIP , REND, TEAR. SOON YOU WILL FEED ME.

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The Quacken clung tightly to the creature, flashing that oversized beak of theirs into play whenever it could. It was less than happy at this fight, and it wasn’t like it could fly off. But it did help that the foolish creature kept trying to pull them down. Like they would sink so easily. They clung on tight, allowing themselves to get dragged down into the depths, it wasn’t like it mattered, they would be back.

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Back on the surface the waves were thrashing the vessels about mercilessly, despite this Mibbet had managed to get back into the boat. Watching the calm surface carefully, who had won?