...these are rural Parker County fish, rarely disturbed, rarely excited, just fish. Big, well fed black bass. Swimming around in the big Sagecrest Farms lake in schools. Separated from the small Sagecrest Farms pond by a narrow but sturdy dam, which also serves as the only road down to the cleared out river bank area. The Brazos waters flowing southeast to the Gulf of Mexico. These rural Parker County fish were massacred by the Tokie Indian Tribe of North Texas. Scalped and scaled, marinaded and grilled. Burned on the edges to get a crispy bite. Pictures flooded glowphones, social media went wild. These massive bass being held up by the youngters of the tribe while the chief smiled proudly, blood on his hands. Put em on hooks, suffocated them of water, prolly took several shots. Those big fish, surely counting on the catch and release culture they had grown accoustomed to, were shocked. Under the surface, far from the ability of the Tokies to see, meetings were called. The elders spoke. The lazy catfish no-showed, of course. Even the minnows sent representatives. A few had been abducted. The Tokie chief ate one raw. Evidently, he was making good on a wager of some sort. Had to do with push-ups, both girl children able to do twice as many and even the small boy doing many more. The young, always in the process of growing and maturing. The old are different. The elder fish called for level 3 caution. The dumb fish got hooked regardless. The cocky. The desperate...
...these are rural Parker County fish, rarely disturbed, rarely excited, just fish. Big, well fed black bass. Swimming around in the big Sagecrest Farms lake in schools. Separated from the small Sagecrest Farms pond by a narrow but sturdy dam, which also serves as the only road down to the cleared out river bank area. The Brazos waters flowing southeast to the Gulf of Mexico. These rural Parker County fish were massacred by the Tokie Indian Tribe of North Texas. Scalped and scaled, marinaded and grilled. Burned on the edges to get a crispy bite. Pictures flooded glowphones, social media went wild. These massive bass being held up by the youngters of the tribe while the chief smiled proudly, blood on his hands. Put em on hooks, suffocated them of water, prolly took several shots. Those big fish, surely counting on the catch and release culture they had grown accoustomed to, were shocked. Under the surface, far from the ability of the Tokies to see, meetings were called. The elders spoke. The lazy catfish no-showed, of course. Even the minnows sent representatives. A few had been abducted. The Tokie chief ate one raw. Evidently, he was making good on a wager of some sort. Had to do with push-ups, both girl children able to do twice as many and even the small boy doing many more. The young, always in the process of growing and maturing. The old are different. The elder fish called for level 3 caution. The dumb fish got hooked regardless. The cocky. The desperate...