“Watch this! He’s coming in for the kill!” Fred called, “That’s it, Ringo, you’re my bird!”
“Stop him! Don’t let him kill Nester! We won’t have enough birds for next week!”
Fred jumped the fence, batting Ringo away with a tennis racket.
“Okay, folks, that’s the Kill Point.” Scott declared, “Pay up.”
The men grumbled, but they paid out the seashells they had collected all week.
Scott took his cut and handed the rest to Ed.
“That was a close one,” Scot sighed, “You gotta watch it. Those are the last two seabirds. Once they’re gone, no more fight club.”
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