In the far off lands of Africa, where the tigers prowl and the bird's hunt, there lived a man in a cottage by a river. Every day the man would wake up, takes a deep breath, stretches his limbs, and takes a prolonged bath in the river. He would take his time bathing since he didn’t have a whole lot of responsibility. He spent a lot of time washing his glorious beard. From time to time he would get lucky and find a leftover food morsel in the tangle. This always gave the day a little extra shine. After his beard was clean, the man would move on to scrub the rest of his lanky body and finished off as always by combing his auburn hair.

As the sun blazed, he emerged from the river as naked as the day he emerged from his mother’s womb. With a smile on his face, he pulled his brown fraying bathrobe off a nearby tree and expertly wrapped it around his body. The man took another deep breath and strode the few yards to his cottage, stopping only to check on his small cabbage patch. Upon reaching the door, he quickly ran through the required passwords need to unlock his smart lock system.

As he opened the door, he was greeted by an unusual sight. A 3 and a half-ton hippo was sitting right there in his kitchen, on his favorite stool, puffing away on his favorite pipe.

Well, not any hippo. The neighborhood hippo, Mr. Potmus.

“Why are you in my house Mr. Potmus?” the man demanded.

“Every morning I think to ask you the same Mitch. You sure do spend a lot of time in the river that I call home.”

“You know I go by Moshalala nowadays! Who let you in any way!?”

“I refuse to call you by that name Mitch, it is ridiculous.”

“More ridiculous than Mr. Potums?”

“Touche.” replied the Hippo.

“Why are you here anyway?”

“I am here to present you with this certificate of accomplishment!” the hippo said grandly. From the folds of his tough grey skin, he produced a thick manila folder.

“Accomplishment?!?” Mitch started to get excited. It had been a long while since someone had acknowledged his talents and self-starter attitude.

Mitch excitedly grabbed the folder that was presented to him by the neighborly hippo.

“You have been served.” said Mr. Potmus bluntly, “You must appear in court on the date assigned to you.”

“Wait, nobody is interested in my accomplishments in the pet industry?”

“Mitch, I’m sorry to say that your foray into fish clothes has yet to take off.”

“This is not your grandmother’s fish apparel Mr. Potmus, this is Ripple by Moshalala. We harness the power of the ocean and the suppleness of the willow to give you the sleekest aquatic apparel on the market.”

“Yes, I have heard your pitch before. You are being sued for copyright infringement. Apparently, you didn’t even come up with the idea for fish apparel.”

“We even offer matching outfits for the fish’s human companion. Look at Sushi over here.”

Moshalala pointed to a crystal sphere resting on the counter. In it a fish is visible, wearing a thread bear piece of cloth, not unlike Moshalala’s fraying bathrobe. It is tied loosely by a piece of string around the fish’s midsection.

“Look how he enjoys it.”

“Actually Mitch,” said a deep voice emanating from the fishbowl “the design is quite bad. I am struggling to fit my fins through the armholes.”

“Oh, would you look at the time! I think you need to take a nap there, little Sushi.”

Moshalala covered the sphere with a cloth patterned with monarch butterflies.

“As I was saying… What was I saying?”

“I don’t know Mitch, but I was just leaving. Good luck with the long arm of the law.”

“Those fools can’t do anything to me! I am the great Moshalala!”

“Alright Mitch, take it easy. I will see you later.”

The hippo picked himself off the stool and lumbered towards the exit.

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