Sorry, this is more like a chapter in a book.
Enjoy the read if you can make it all the way through 
As a member of a prosperous fishing tribe, Emma Lowry lived on a remote edge of The Outskirts in a small hut with her grandmother. For all members of her village, each day consisted of the three same activities.
Eat. Sleep. Fish.
For Emma’s community, fishing was a way of life. It served not only as a successful method of food gathering, but more importantly, as an activity that allowed time to pass by quickly and peacefully, while havoc was relentlessly befalling on all other places. It was an ancentral practice that has been passed on from generation to generation.
Although it was practiced every day, the fishing skills varied between each member in the village. There were horrible fishermen, such as Bufoot, who couldn’t catch a fish if it jumped into the boat with him; and there were great fishermen, such as Oliver Coldman, who once caught a 400-pounder (although it only weighed 200 pounds the first time he told the story); but no fisherman was greater than Emma Lowry…
Even on the worst of days, when Oliver Coldman, who once caught 6 fish on a single hook (although it was only 2 the first time he told the story), couldn’t bring home even one fish, Emma always came back with a fully loaded bucket of freshly caught big ones.
Emma’s fishing skills, however, were not always present, and in fact, was quite the miraculous onset considering she used to be in Bufoot’s position. It remained a mystery to everyone in the village as to how she became so good, so fast, but she always kept it to herself. Even Emma’s grandmother began to question her.
Emma, how ya’ keep bringin’ dem’ bucket full’a fish home each day? You neva’ even used ta’ bring home a single fish scale.
It’s nothin’ gramma! Oliver Coldman just taught me some neat tricks is all! Hey, did you know he once jumped in the water to wrestle a shark that tried stealin’ his fish? (Although, some witnesses say it was just a sea otter, but Oliver begs to differ.)
In actuality, Emma Lowry and the cocky, fib-telling fisherman, Oliver Coldman, have never spoken to each other a day in their lives. Emma merely used this lie as a means to satisfy her grandmother’s curiosity.
Well whateva’ he taught ya’, keep on doin’ it, ya’ hear? Keep bringin’ dem’ bucket home, aight’?
Bucket…
Hmmph…
I like dat…
I think dat’s ya’ new nickname Emma… Bucket…
I like that gramma…
I like it too… I love ya’ Bucket, an’ I’m so prouda’ ya’.
Emma’s guilt began to grow.
Soon, “Bucket” caught on and Emma Lowry was no longer “Emma Lowry”… She was now known as Bucket, the village’s best fisherman.
As her fame around the village grew, more and more people wanted to join her as she went on her fishing excursions, although she would always strongly insist on going alone.
It was odd how all the other fishermen came back covered in scales, blood, and fish-smell, while Bucket always came home looking and smelling clean as a whistle. No one really questioned it, except a jealous and suspicious Oliver Coldman, whose status in the village had since been reduced to ‘second-best fisherman.’
As Oliver Coldman’s suspicions grew, he planned to follow Bucket on her next fishing expedition. So, the next morning, as Bucket strolled down the shoreline, with her fishing pole, bait bag, and empty bucket in hand, Oliver Coldman lurked behind her quietly. After nearly an hour of walking, Bucket reached the entrance of a strange cave. Shortly after she entered the cave, Oliver Coldman heard voices coming from within. As he hid with his back leaned against a cave pillar, he listened to the surrounding voices:
Voice 1: “How much have you brought for us Bucket?”
Voice 2: “The bag looks full, is it more than yesterday’s?”
Bucket: “Yes, it’s more than yesterday’s load.”
Voice 2: “Great, let us see it.”
*bag unzips as an eccentric aura of light emits from the cave’s darkness*
Voice 1: “Wow, that is more than you’ve brought us all week! Bucket, you have shown us such great loyalty… When will you join us for good?”
Bucket: “I’m sorry, but I’ve told you, I can’t… My village needs me… I will continue to hold up my end of the bargain, just as long as you hold up yours. Now, do you have my fish?”
*the sound of slimy critters flopping around in a metal bucket echo throughout the cave*
Bucket: “Thank you all. Till’ tomorrow”
*Bucket nods and goes on her way*
Oliver Coldman overheard the entire conversation and was disgusted by Bucket’s fraudulence and decided right then and there that her disgracefulness was not welcome back to the village. Oliver Coldman decided to take Bucket out of the picture.
As Bucket began her walk back from the cave, Oliver Coldman snuck up behind her, grabbed the fishing knife from his boot, and shoved the blade in one of Bucket’s cheeks as it came out the other side. As she fell to the floor, Oliver Coldman pulled out the knife from her face, gripped Bucket’s lower jaw with his right hand and yanked back as if he was starting a lawn mower.
As his rage ensued while holding Bucket’s detached jaw in his hand, Oliver Coldman stood up, faced towards the ocean and tossed it as far as he could, like a Frisbee.
As the splash settled from her jaw being swallowed by the ocean’s fangs, Oliver Coldman jumped back onto Bucket and grasped her tongue from her mouth.
Your little façade will continue no more! You ruined me with your bucket of lies, and no one will believe me! It’s time for you to kick the bucket, Bucket!
Just as he was about de-tongue her with his fishing knife, the blade pressed against her tissue, a gunshot sounded in the distance, followed by a soft and somewhat soothing whistling noise, which gained volume as seconds passed.
As the whistling noise grew louder and louder, Oliver realized that his head was standing in the path of a screeching bullet, but it was too late to react. As the bullet passed through its mark, Oliver’s head poofed into a blend of red, salty sea mist, picked up by the ocean’s breeze, and dispersed across the sand ever so subtly.
As Bucket was drifting in and out of consciousness, five silhouettes came rushing to her aid.
When she woke up, Moss, Keel, Fischer, Cast, and Scum stood over her inside the cave. Thanks to Moss’ healing remedies and Keel’s craftsmanship, Bucket was saved, and now she owed her life to The Shoremen.
DUN DUN DUN
The end.
