It was a dark and stormy morning, but Fink was not to be deterred, she was going to the beach. A threatening sky loomed overhead, and rain pattered down on the striped canvas awning over her door. As she walked to her rusty old bike, she appeared to be a one person parade of horribles, burdened down by a number of oddly shaped packages.
By the time she had finally organized all her stuff, most people's hair would have been limp from the rain. But her frosted helmet of hair was in fact a helmet, so much hairspray had been applied. Fink used a special spray, not available in the US. She special ordered it from a factory in Chihuahua, Mexico, because they are the only people to add Teflon for stiffness. The only downside was the sickly yellow color it stained her hair. Well, that and the terrible damage it caused to marine life, causing their gills to liquefy. The FDA had returned their sample for testing in a biohazard containment unit.
But guppies be damned, Fink wasn't going to abandon that oily firmness that only Aguanet could provide. And so, as the rain beaded on her hair, odd shaped packages swaying, she turned her bike towards the beach.
As she pedaled down the street, crumpled soda cans and other trash rained down on her from passing cars. Most cars slowed down to throw at least a little trash at her. Fink thought it was because her bike was an eyesore, all old and rusty. But in fact, the trash was thrown in a reflex action to an evil miasma that she radiated.
Evil usually inspires fear, but not in Fink's case. She wasn't clever enough to cause even a little bit of terror. Her evil was more along the lines of a retarded scorpion infected with rabies. Maybe not that clever. In short, Fink resembled a toady without an evil overlord protector. Hence the crumpled cans and other assorted trash from almost everyone who saw her.
Fink was grateful for the rain, because it was washing off the decaf and grape slurpy mixture that had been splashed on her by a passing family in a Mercury Villager. But there was still a little caught in the hairs around her mouth when she arrived at the beach.
The kickstand on her bike had been ripped off the previous summer by a collie she had happened across. It wasn't the collie's fault though, dogs instinctively hated her, except for terriers, who fed off her foul energy. So without a kickstand she felt she had no choice but to leave her bike lying across two handicapped parking spaces. Gathering up her oddly shaped packages, she walked past the "Do not Walk, Whooping Crane nests under the sand" sign and into the dunes. The sand was especially crunchy that day, but soon enough she stood over her accustomed spot.
It was time to expose her wrinkled old body to the offended gaze of the sun. Fink began by taking off her shoes. She had a firm belief that the sand and salt water had a therapeutic effect on her corns, bunions and hammer-toes. She wasn't sure what to do about the little piggy with all three ailments piled on top of one another, but it was worth a shot. Anyway, her feet were so moist, they needed some air.
As she removed the rest of her clothes, the flaps of loose skin almost covered her paisley french cut bikini. That was why she didn't wear a thong anymore. The final obstacle was her girdle, which stubbornly refused to open due to a sticky green substance oozing out from the inside. The ooze proved to be from aloe plant which she was using to try and cure the acne covering her back, but that wasn't discovered until much later.
After much wrestling and one final wrench, the girdle was off, and she was revealed in all her glory. When she was young, she had been only passably handsome, but she had let herself go. Now she resembled a slender shiv, confiscated from the rectum of a dyherretic prison inmate. Except not so slender. And she had more schmutz. Speaking of the schmutz, it was time for her swim.
The ocean was storm tossed, whitecaps breaking upon each other and windswept spray flying to and fro. It had a steely color to it and looked fairly forbidding. But the schmutz was starting to itch, and so Fink headed down the beach, into the jaws of the crashing waves.
Swimming in that ocean was moronic to begin with, and there is some debate whether she would have survived even if events hadn't taken a turn for the worse. But events did take a turn for the worse, and there is no debate that she would have been better off drowning. Because just offshore from where Fink was testing the water was a school of dolphins.
All the dolphins in a school are the same sex, and about the same age. This school of dolphins happened to be male, and about 9 years old. They had recently sought mates in the Gulf of Mexico just offshore of Chihuahua. The were unsuccessful, and as a result, these dolphins were randier than Merchant Marines on shore leave after a two year cruise. In addition, the poisons in the water off the coast of Chihuahua had weakened their defenses and they were all infested with a particularly vicious intestinal parasite. Marine biologists agree that these dolphins were probably insane at this point.
The only witness to what followed was a eleven year old boy who was collecting shells just down the beach.
"The lady who went in the water was scary looking and I stayed away from her. But she started to play with the dolphins so I watched. I wanted to play too, but I didn't have my swimming trunks with me. So I watched instead which was almost as fun. She played with the dolphins fun games, they would jump on top of her and pull her around underwater. She yelled a lot, but dolphins are nice to people so I knew she was having fun. The dolphins wouldn't let her come in, I guess they were having too much fun. When they pulled off her bathing suit and it washed up I held it for her, but she didn't come in to get it. Then they went real far out and I couldn't see her anymore. She sure was lucky to get to play with the dolphins." Police decided that there was no benefit in explaining to the boy that he had really witnessed a vicious sexual attack on an innocent woman.
And so her death was ruled an accidental drowning, although no body was ever recovered. Because surely it is inconceivable that she remains out there, a battered plaything in the harem of those insane porpoises.