Old Joe started to push his pram up the first of the humps that the bridge builders had put in to allow boats to go up the river. "Always a good view from the top," he said to himself or the pelican or the pram or maybe it was to Blue who was back under the tankstand.

Well he got a view when he got to the top of the hump allright but it wasn't the view he thought it'd be. There in the middle of the bridge, lying on the pot holey bitumen was an enormous shark, flipping and flapping as if it had just been washed up by the last wave that didn't go by or Joe would certainly have seen it. It must have been eleven metres long if it was an inch and Joe didn't like the way it was looking at him.

Just then the pelican came swooping down towards Old Joe going "Gaaark. Gaark. Gaark." Joe stepped out of the way of the pelican but stepped towards the White Pointer which lashed out with it's tail, knocked him to the deck of the bridge and opened it's huge mouth to turn him into shark bait.

Joe whipped out his filleting knife and plunged it into the shark's skull. The blade went into the hilt and sharks blood sprayed out onto Joe's hand and arm before he could pull the knife out.

Where the blood ran across the skin of his arm it turned grey and rough.

Joe tried to wipe the blood off but he just managed to make his other hand bloody and Joe shreaked and screamed as he watched the other hand turn grey and rough as well. It was like he was being turned into a shark by the power of the shark he'd stabbed.

Joe tried to stand up but fell over again before he could take a step.

He looked down and saw that his feet and legs had turned into a sharks tail that started to flap and flip him toward the side of the bridge and the water below.

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Storytelling in Australia