The Magnifying Glass preened, practically glowing with self-satisfaction. "Hank Fowler, was that okay? Did I meet your expectations?"

Hank Fowler nodded approvingly. "Glassy, you did great!"

The Magnifying Glass seemed to freeze. "What did you just call me?"

"Glassy, of course. Is there a problem?" Hank Fowler raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence.

The Magnifying Glass was practically vibrating with indignation. "My name is Big Glass! Don't call me Glassy."

Hank Fowler rubbed his nose, a smirk playing on his lips. "It's just a name. Why are you so worked up?"

The Magnifying Glass huffed. "Oh, I don't know. How would you feel if I started calling you 'Little Pecker'? You wouldn't like that, would you? But if I called you 'Big Beefcake,' I bet you'd be just fine with that."

Hank Fowler: "..."

What the hell was this thing talking about?

The Magnifying Glass, sensing an opportunity to press its advantage, continued, "I'm laying down the law right here, right now. You keep calling me Glassy, and I'm calling you Little Pecker from now on!"

Hank Fowler's face darkened. "You call me Little Pecker, and I swear I'll throw you into a latrine!"

The Magnifying Glass sputtered, "You can call me Glassy, but I can't call you Little Pecker? Is that fair? Is that any kind of justice?"

Hank Fowler's eyes narrowed, his voice dripping with mock authority. "In this shelter, I AM justice! What I say goes. You got that? You'll like it, and if you don't like it, you'll still like it!"

The Magnifying Glass: "..."

This guy was a tyrant!

Ignoring the Magnifying Glass's silent protests, Hank Fowler placed the frying pan on the fire. As the flames licked at the metal, the water inside began to boil, and the clams within started their chorus of despair.

"Brothers, it's over! He's got the fire going!"

"Ahhh... it's burning! I'm being cooked alive! Somebody help me!"

"Farewell, my friends! Let's be brothers again in the next life!"

"May we never meet such a vile human again in our next lives!"

...

Hank Fowler frowned. These clams were noisy. If only he could just mute them. Wait a second...

As the thought crossed his mind, the clamor in his ears abruptly ceased. It was as if the clams' cries had vanished into thin air.

"Huh?" Hank Fowler's eyebrows shot up. Could he actually mute sounds?

He silently commanded, "Unmute!"

The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

Instantly, the clams' curses filled the air again.

"Human, I'll haunt you even as a ghost!"

"May you die a horrible death!"

"I curse you to pee with a split stream!"

"I curse you to never grow taller!"

...

"It actually works!" A wicked grin spread across Hank Fowler's face. "Scream all you want. The louder you scream, the more excited I get!" He promptly muted the clams again.

The entrenching tool, watching the agonizing clams in the pan, felt a pang of sympathy. "Boss, I think you're being too cruel! You're harming so many living beings just to satisfy your appetite. Do you have any humanity left? Calling you a ruthless executioner would be an understatement. I despise you!"

"Digger, what are you talking about? Boss is a human, doesn't he need to eat? Eating a few clams is a normal thing, isn't it?" The frying pan chimed in, defending Hank Fowler.

The entrenching tool snapped back, "You're his accomplice! Don't talk to me!"

The frying pan: "..."

Hank Fowler grabbed the entrenching tool, his gaze turning icy.

The entrenching tool trembled slightly, its voice wavering. "Boss, I was just speaking my mind. You're not mad, are you?"

Hank Fowler chuckled softly. "Digger, have you ever considered that you're also my accomplice? If you hadn't dug up those clams, would they be in the pan right now?"

"Huh?" The entrenching tool was stunned. Come to think of it, that did seem to be the case.

A mocking smile curled Hank Fowler's lips. "Digger, what do you have to say for yourself now?"

The entrenching tool hung its head, dejected. "I feel like... like a clown."

"You don't just feel like one, you ARE one!" Hank Fowler snorted. "If you have something intelligent to say, say it. Otherwise, shut your trap and pretend to be mute! Next time you talk to me like that, it's the latrine for you."

The entrenching tool: "..."

The wooden fence suddenly piped up, "Boss, we don't have a toilet in our shelter!"

"Do you think I don't know that? Do I need you to remind me? I'll dig one tomorrow! And anyone who disobeys me is going straight into it." Hank Fowler glared at the wooden fence. He needed to establish some authority. They were all getting too bold, daring to talk back to him. It was practically mutiny!

The wooden fence quickly retracted, "Just forget I said anything."

The entrenching tool, thoroughly intimidated, hastily swore, "Boss, I was wrong. I swear to Boss Sun, I won't talk out of turn again!"

The Sun boomed, its voice radiating heat, "A lowly ant dares to swear on my name? Know your place!"

The entrenching tool: "..."

Hank Fowler chuckled, trying to defuse the situation. "Boss Sun, calm down. No need to get angry at a little shovel."

The Sun retorted, "Do I know you? Don't try to get chummy with me!"

Hank Fowler: "..."

What was with this guy? Was he on his period or something? Picking a fight with everyone. So he was the sun, big deal!

Hank Fowler huffed, choosing to ignore him.

Just then, the frying pan spoke up, "Boss, the clams are cooked. Any longer and they'll be overdone!"

Hank Fowler quickly removed the pan from the fire, his eyes scanning the contents. Eight clams, all gaping open, their white flesh exposed. They had all died rather pathetic deaths, but Hank Fowler was going to enjoy them nonetheless.

He devoured the eight clams in no time, even slurping down the broth until the pan was spotless. Pure satisfaction.

With his belly full and the sun having set, darkness quickly enveloped the island. Hank Fowler loosened his belt, preparing to relieve himself.

Suddenly, the seeds began to stir, their voices filling his head.

"Human, are you going to pee?"

"Such excellent nutrients shouldn't be wasted!"

"Come on, spray me!"

"Spray my face!"

"Spray it in my mouth!"

"I'm the boss seed, I should get the first drink of pee!"

"Screw you! Who made you the boss?"

"Don't you know the principle of first come, first served? I spoke first, so this pee is mine!"

...

Hank Fowler was speechless. They were fighting over his pee? Was it really that valuable?

Shaking his head, Hank Fowler chose a seed at random and let loose.

Having taken care of his bodily needs, he was about to enter The Hut when the entrenching tool spoke up again, "Boss, it's dark now. You can't leave me outside. I'm scared!"

The frying pan chimed in, "Boss, me too..."

The Magnifying Glass added in a whiny tone, "Bro, I'm your most loyal Glassy! You can't abandon me!"

"Three cowards!" Hank Fowler muttered, picking up the three objects.

But before he could step inside The Hut, the wooden fence called out, "Boss, what about me?"

Hank Fowler stopped and turned to the wooden fence. "What about you?"

The wooden fence explained, "You're all going into The Hut, leaving me alone outside. I'm scared too!"