PART 1 — THE OPENING: A PERFECTLY NORMAL DAY AT THE HARBOR

It was a beautiful Saturday morning in 1947, and the old fishing harbor was already bustling with activity. Seagulls circled above the wooden docks, fishermen shouted across their boats, and the salty breeze carried the familiar smell of the ocean through the narrow streets.

At the far end of the pier stood Bud Abbott, dressed in a perfectly pressed light-colored suit, a dark necktie, and a fashionable fedora. His expression suggested a man who had already experienced three headaches before breakfast.

Beside him stood Lou Costello, wearing a checkered jacket, a crooked tie, and a little black bowler hat that seemed determined to fall off his head whenever he became excited.

And Lou was very excited.

In his right hand, he proudly held an enormous silver fish.

“ABBOTT! ABBOTT! LOOK WHAT I GOT!” Lou shouted, waving the fish dangerously close to his partner’s face.

Abbott stepped backward.

“Will you get that thing away from me?”

“What’s the matter? You don’t like fish?”

“I like fish!”

“Then why are you running away from it?”

“Because I like fish on a plate, not swinging in front of my nose!”

Lou looked at the fish, then back at Abbott.

“Well, I can put it on a plate.”

“Good!”

“But we’d need a mighty big plate.”

“Costello!”

“And I don’t think it’ll fit in my pocket, either.”

Abbott sighed.

“Never mind the plate. Where did you get that fish?”

Lou smiled proudly.

“I caught it!”

Abbott looked suspiciously at the enormous fish.

“You caught that?”

“Sure did!”

“All by yourself?”

“Absolutely!”

“With nobody helping you?”

“Not a soul!”

Abbott folded his arms.

“Then tell me something. Where’s your fishing pole?”

Lou blinked.

“My what?”

“Your fishing pole!”

“Oh, I didn’t need one.”

“You caught a fish without a fishing pole?”

“That’s right.”

“Without a hook?”

“That’s right.”

“Without bait?”

“That’s right!”

Abbott stared at him.

“Then how in the world did you catch it?”

Lou leaned closer and whispered triumphantly.

“I surprised it.”

Abbott closed his eyes.

“You surprised the fish?”

“Yeah! It wasn’t expecting me!”

“Costello, fish don’t get surprised!”

“This one did! Look at his face!”

Lou lifted the fish until its open mouth was directly in front of Abbott.

Abbott recoiled.

“That fish isn’t surprised! It’s a fish!”

“Well, something surprised him. He hasn’t closed his mouth since I picked him up!”

Abbott rubbed his forehead.

“Listen to me carefully. There’s a fishing contest here today. First prize is one hundred dollars. If you really caught that fish, we might have a chance to win.”

Lou’s eyes widened.

“ONE HUNDRED DOLLARS?”

“That’s right.”

“For this fish?”

“If it’s the biggest one.”

Lou looked down at the fish affectionately.

“Gee, Abbott, that’s wonderful! I only paid two dollars for him!”

Silence.

Abbott slowly turned toward Lou.

“You WHAT?”

Lou froze.

“Uh-oh.”

“You just told me you caught that fish!”

“I did!”

“But you PAID for it!”

“That’s right!”

“How can you catch a fish and pay for it at the same time?”

Lou shrugged.

“Easy. The fish cost two dollars. The catching was free.”

Abbott took a long, painful breath.

He had a terrible feeling that this was going to be a very long morning.

PART 2 — THE MISUNDERSTANDING: WHO REALLY CAUGHT THE FISH?

Abbott grabbed Lou by the shoulder.

“Now listen, Costello. We’re going to straighten this out before we enter any contest. Did you catch that fish in the ocean?”

Lou thought carefully.

“No.”

“In the river?”

“No.”

“In a lake?”

“No.”

“Then where did you catch it?”

Lou pointed down the pier.

“Over there.”

Abbott followed his finger.

“At the fish market?”

“That’s right!”

“You caught a fish at the fish market?”

“Sure! The fish was lying on the counter, and the man said, ‘That’s the catch of the day!’ So I caught it!”

Abbott stared at him in disbelief.

“Costello, ‘catch of the day’ means the fish was caught earlier!”

“Well, why didn’t he say that?”

“Because everybody knows what it means!”

“Not everybody! I thought he was telling me to catch it!”

Abbott shook his head.

“Let’s try something simpler. Did you use a fishing line?”

Lou nodded enthusiastically.

“Oh, sure!”

Abbott looked relieved.

“Good! Now we’re getting somewhere. What kind of line?”

“A long one.”

“How long?”

“About twenty people.”

Abbott stopped breathing for a moment.

“Twenty people?”

“Yeah! There were twenty people in front of me!”

Abbott looked toward the heavens.

“Costello, I’m talking about a FISHING line!”

“So am I!”

“You were standing in a line at the fish market!”

“Right!”

“That’s not a fishing line!”

“Why not? Everybody in it was buying fish!”

Abbott removed his hat and slapped it against his leg.

“Listen! A fishing line is a thin piece of string attached to a fishing pole!”

Lou examined the fish.

“Ohhhh. You mean the string!”

“YES!”

“Well, why didn’t you say string?”

“Because it’s called a line!”

“Then why do people stand in lines?”

“Because they’re waiting!”

“What are the fish waiting for?”

“THE FISH AREN’T WAITING!”

“Well, this one must have been. He was lying there when I got there!”

Abbott walked in a small circle, trying to maintain his composure.

“All right. Forget the line. Did you use a hook?”

“Certainly!”

Abbott stopped.

“You did?”

“Sure!”

“What kind?”

“A big metal one.”

“Where was it?”

“On the wall.”

“On the wall?”

“That’s right.”

“What was it doing on the wall?”

“Holding the fish!”

Abbott’s shoulders dropped.

“The fish was hanging from a hook?”

“Yes!”

“And you took it off?”

“Yes!”

“And that’s how you caught it?”

“Exactly!”

Abbott looked as though he might cry.

“That’s not catching a fish! That’s taking a fish off a hook!”

Lou grinned.

“Well, I had to take it off the hook before I could catch it. Otherwise, I’d have had to bring the whole wall home!”

Abbott pointed a trembling finger at him.

“Costello, catching a fish means going out on the water, throwing your line into the ocean, waiting for a fish to bite, and pulling it out!”

Lou listened intently.

Then he shook his head.

“That seems like an awful lot of trouble.”

“That’s fishing!”

“I’ve got a better system.”

“Oh, really?”

“Sure! I wait for somebody else to do all that, then I give him two dollars!”

Abbott’s jaw tightened.

“That’s called BUYING FISH!”

Lou smiled.

“And that’s why I’m ahead of you. You go fishing, and I go shopping!”

Abbott was about to shout again when his eyes fell upon a large wooden sign beside the dock.

It read:

ANNUAL HARBOR FISHING CONTEST — FIRST PRIZE: $100 — LARGEST FISH CAUGHT TODAY!

Abbott pointed at the sign.

“Look! One hundred dollars! Do you understand what that means?”

Lou nodded.

“Sure. It means we can buy fifty more fish!”

“No! It means we can win the prize if we catch the biggest fish!”

Lou proudly raised his enormous fish.

“Then what are we waiting for? We already got the fish!”

“YOU BOUGHT THE FISH!”

“Abbott, you’re making this much harder than it has to be!”

PART 3 — THE CORRECTION: LEARNING THE RULES OF FISHING

Abbott decided that the only way to save the morning was to explain the basic rules of fishing.

He straightened his tie, adjusted his hat, and adopted the patient expression of a schoolteacher attempting to educate a particularly stubborn student.

“Now, Costello, pay attention. Fishing is very simple. First, you need bait.”

Lou nodded.

“Bait.”

“Correct.”

“What’s bait?”

“It’s something you put on a hook to attract the fish.”

Lou looked puzzled.

“Why?”

“So the fish will bite!”

Lou gasped.

“You want the fish to bite me?”

“No!”

“Then why am I holding the hook?”

“The fish bites the BAIT!”

“Oh! So the bait gets bitten!”

“Exactly.”

“Then what happens to the bait?”

“The fish eats it.”

Lou looked horrified.

“You mean I buy food for the fish?”

“Yes!”

“And he eats it?”

“Yes!”

“And then I catch him?”

“Yes!”

Lou considered this carefully.

“Abbott, why don’t I just open a restaurant?”

“A restaurant?”

“Sure! If I feed all the fish, they’ll come to me. Then I don’t have to go looking for them!”

Abbott clenched his fists.

“You’re not opening a restaurant for fish!”

“Well, somebody ought to! These poor fellas have been eating worms all their lives!”

Abbott ignored him.

“Now, after the fish bites, you reel it in.”

Lou frowned.

“Reel it in?”

“That’s right.”

“What’s real about it?”

“Not REAL! REEL!”

“Well, this fish is real!”

“I KNOW THE FISH IS REAL!”

“Then why do I have to make it real again?”

Abbott pointed at an old fishing rod leaning against a barrel.

“See that round thing on the rod?”

Lou nodded.

“That’s a reel.”

“Ohhh.”

“You turn it, and the line comes in.”

“Suppose it doesn’t?”

“Then you keep turning!”

“Suppose the fish doesn’t want to come?”

“You pull harder!”

“Suppose he’s stronger than me?”

“Then you let him tire himself out!”

Lou thought for a moment.

“That’s what my wife does to me!”

Abbott quickly continued.

“After you catch the fish, you put it on a scale.”

Lou looked at his silver fish.

“Why?”

“To see how much it weighs.”

“But he’s already got scales!”

“Those are different scales!”

“How many scales does a fish need?”

“Costello!”

“He’s covered with them already! If he needs more, he’s getting greedy!”

Abbott grabbed a small weighing scale from a nearby table.

“This is the kind of scale I’m talking about!”

Lou examined it.

“Oh! You mean the weighing machine!”

“YES!”

“Why didn’t you say so?”

“Because it’s called a SCALE!”

“Well, what are these things on the fish called?”

“Scales!”

“Then which scales do you want?”

“THE WEIGHING SCALES!”

“And what do we do with the fish scales?”

“NOTHING!”

“Why not?”

“BECAUSE THEY’RE ALREADY ON THE FISH!”

Lou looked impressed.

“Boy, fish sure have it easy. They come with their own scales!”

Abbott covered his face with both hands.

A passing fisherman stopped to watch the argument.

Lou smiled pleasantly.

“Good morning, mister! You know anything about fishing?”

The fisherman nodded.

“Been fishing here thirty years.”

Lou looked amazed.

“Thirty years? And you’re still trying to catch one?”

The fisherman walked away without another word.

Abbott decided to ignore that remark.

“Now, Costello, one more thing. Some fish travel in schools.”

Lou blinked.

“Schools?”

“That’s right.”

“Fish go to school?”

“Yes.”

“What do they learn?”

Abbott hesitated.

“They don’t learn anything. A group of fish is called a school.”

Lou looked at his fish.

“Well, this one’s pretty smart.”

“Oh, really?”

“Sure. He got himself a good education.”

Abbott sighed.

“How do you know?”

“Because the fishmonger told me he was a sea bass!”

“So?”

“Well, he must have been the boss of the school!”

“That’s not what bass means!”

“Then why do they call him bass?”

“That’s the kind of fish he is!”

Lou leaned close to Abbott.

“Do you think he can sing?”

Abbott stared at him.

“WHAT?”

“If he’s a bass, maybe he sings in the choir!”

Abbott turned away, muttering to himself.

For the first time that morning, Lou looked genuinely concerned.

“Abbott?”

“What?”

“You don’t look so good.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re turning red.”

“That’s because you’re driving me crazy!”

Lou glanced at his fish.

“Well, don’t blame the fish. He hasn’t said a word!”

PART 4 — THE ESCALATION: THE GREAT FISHING DISASTER

By eleven o’clock, a small crowd had gathered near the fishing contest booth.

Abbott had somehow convinced Lou that they needed to enter the competition properly. Unfortunately, their enormous silver fish was still causing problems.

The contest official, an elderly gentleman with a white mustache and a clipboard, approached them.

“Good morning, gentlemen. Are you entering the fishing contest?”

Abbott smiled confidently.

“Yes, sir. We certainly are.”

The official looked at Lou’s fish.

“That’s quite a catch!”

Lou beamed.

“Thank you! That’s what I keep telling him!”

The official inspected the fish.

“How much does it weigh?”

Lou looked uncertain.

“I don’t know.”

The official frowned.

“You don’t know the weight?”

“No, sir.”

“Didn’t you put it on a scale?”

Lou looked offended.

“Why would I do that? He’s got more scales than I can count!”

Abbott jumped between them.

“What my partner means is that we haven’t weighed it yet.”

The official nodded.

“Very well. Where did you catch it?”

Abbott opened his mouth, but Lou answered first.

“At the fish market!”

The official stopped writing.

“The fish market?”

“Yes, sir!”

Abbott grabbed Lou’s sleeve.

“Costello!”

“What?”

“Be quiet!”

“Why?”

“Because you’re ruining everything!”

The official narrowed his eyes.

“Did you buy this fish?”

Lou smiled.

“Only for two dollars!”

Abbott groaned.

The official shook his head.

“I’m sorry, gentlemen. Purchased fish cannot be entered into the contest.”

Lou gasped.

“WHY NOT?”

“Because the fish must be caught by the contestant.”

“But I caught it!”

“You bought it!”

“I bought it AFTER I caught it!”

Abbott pulled Lou aside.

“Listen to me. We can still win this contest.”

Lou looked hopeful.

“How?”

“We’re going to catch a fish ourselves.”

Lou glanced at the enormous fish in his hand.

“But we already have one!”

“I KNOW!”

“Then why do we need another?”

“Because this one doesn’t count!”

Lou began examining his fish.

“Well, maybe he can’t count, but that doesn’t mean he’s stupid!”

Abbott snatched an old fishing rod from beside a wooden barrel.

“Here! Take this pole!”

Lou reluctantly handed his fish to Abbott.

“Be careful with him. He’s worth two dollars!”

Abbott took the fish and pointed toward the water.

“Now cast the line!”

Lou looked confused.

“Cast it?”

“Yes!”

“Like in a movie?”

“WHAT?”

“You mean give it a part?”

“No! THROW THE LINE!”

“Into the water?”

“YES!”

Lou swung the fishing pole backward.

The hook caught Abbott’s hat.

Lou swung forward.

Abbott’s hat flew through the air and landed in the harbor.

“MY HAT!” Abbott screamed.

Lou watched it float away.

“Gee, Abbott, your hat swims pretty good!”

“GET MY HAT!”

Lou began reeling in the line.

The hat came back toward the dock, upside down and filled with water.

Lou proudly held it up.

“Look! I caught something!”

Abbott snatched the soggy hat.

“That’s MY HAT!”

Lou grinned.

“Well, it was in the ocean. Doesn’t that make it a catch?”

Abbott dumped water from the hat.

“NO!”

“Then the contest has too many rules!”

Abbott forced the hat back onto his head.

A stream of water ran down his face.

“Try again!”

Lou swung the pole backward.

This time the hook caught the back of Abbott’s jacket.

“Costello!”

“What?”

“You’re hooked on me!”

Lou looked frightened.

“I’m hooked on you?”

“YES!”

“Abbott, I like you, but let’s not get carried away!”

“GET THE HOOK OUT OF MY COAT!”

Lou tried to pull the fishing line free.

Instead, he tightened it.

Abbott stumbled backward.

“STOP PULLING!”

“I’m trying to help!”

“YOU’RE CHOKING ME!”

“Well, you said to pull harder!”

“NOT ON ME!”

Lou dropped the pole.

The rod bounced against a wooden post, and the line snapped free.

Abbott staggered backward and crashed into a stack of empty fish baskets.

The baskets collapsed around him like a small wooden avalanche.

Lou hurried over.

“Abbott! Abbott! Are you all right?”

From beneath the baskets came a muffled voice.

“GET ME OUT OF HERE!”

Lou began lifting the baskets away.

“Gee, Abbott, you ought to be more careful.”

Abbott emerged with a fish basket stuck around his waist.

“ME? MORE CAREFUL?”

“Sure! You nearly caught yourself!”

Abbott tried to remove the basket.

It refused to move.

“HELP ME WITH THIS THING!”

Lou pulled from one side.

Abbott pulled from the other.

The basket suddenly came loose.

Lou stumbled backward, collided with a barrel, and sent a dozen small fish tumbling across the dock.

People screamed and scattered.

One fish slipped under a fisherman’s boot.

Another landed inside an empty lunch basket.

A third flopped into Abbott’s open jacket pocket.

Abbott stared in horror.

“WHAT IS GOING ON?”

Lou jumped excitedly.

“ABBOTT! LOOK! FISH EVERYWHERE!”

“THOSE AREN’T OUR FISH!”

“Well, they are now! They’re right here with us!”

“PUT THEM BACK!”

Lou began collecting fish with both hands.

He placed one in the barrel.

Another flopped out.

He put two into the barrel.

Three seemed to come out.

Every time he bent over, his hat slipped forward and covered his eyes.

Abbott tried to help.

He stepped on the wet dock, slid sideways, and grabbed a rope hanging from a nearby post.

The rope was attached to a fishing net.

The net swung down and enveloped Abbott from head to toe.

“HELP!” Abbott shouted.

Lou turned around.

“ABBOTT! YOU’RE IN THE NET!”

“I KNOW I’M IN THE NET!”

“How’d you get in there?”

“YOU IDIOT! GET ME OUT!”

Lou examined the net.

“Gee, Abbott, that’s the biggest fish I ever saw!”

“I’M NOT A FISH!”