Article: 42 of alt.pro.whale.hunting
From: stigs@stud.cs.uit.no (Stig-Lennart Soerensen)
Subject: A short story of how whales are hunted
Date: Mon, 8 Nov 1993 12:03:28 GMT

Whaling in the Arctic Sea

A short story of how whales are hunted

My dad, who is a whaler, once took me out to hunt for whales. We started on a cold sunday morning and subsequently travelled some hours out in the artic sea, avoiding the random ice bergs and roaming polar bears.

After some hours waiting out at the field together with over 200 other whaling ships (whaling is a popular hobby in Norway!) we spotted a whale with her little whale-children. They surfaced and made those cute little bursts of water and air. We opened fire at once with our AK-47 and UZI's. We use special magnum 9mm parabellum bullets, uranium depleted, usually used for tanks and that stuff, but it has proved so effective against whales that major weapons companies has seen the marked-possibilites in Norway and thus the sales in Norway are some 34 percent of their overall world sales.

The bullets impacted on the whales, and we could see satisfying bursts of blood squirt from the whales and hear their pathetic yelps of pain. My father hoisted the ole' pirate flag and I put on Wagners Flight of the Valkyrie on the 200 Mw stereo equipment. We speeded up and headed in for the kill.

When we were close to the whales, some 20 meters, we could clearly see the baby-whales (two of them) cling frantically to their mother. We laughed and rammed their mother with our 40-feet luxury cruiser. The bow has been specifically modified, so it has an egde which is about 2 molecules thick. Its very sharp indeed. Thus, we practically sliced the whale in two, and enourmous amounts of blood shortly ran out of the whale, no no not ran almost exploded. Our boat were drenched in whale-blood. My black SS-uniform got some unfortunate blood-stains, but that comes with the territory.

Now the two baby-whales tried to flee us, but we launched a couple of bazookas at them and then used the flame-thrower on them. Their screams of pain were incredible. They basked in the sea, frantically trying to swim away or dive, but were prohibited from that by the fact that the bazookas had taken their tails off. Hehe. After a slight barbecue feast, I entered the rubber-boat and went towards them. They now lied slowly in the water, squealing and yealping helplessly while they still made those pathetic air-burts which now was marked with bloood!

I took up my .357 and aimed at the youngest baby-whales left eye. Its dark and completely innocent animal eye looked at me with fear, but I didnt flinch and blasted a magnum round right in the eye! Splat! The whale went limp-o-limp. The second now screamed these high-pitched sounds and tried to do anything to get away from me. But alas, it destiny was sealed. I emptied the rest of the rounds in the baby-whale.

Afterwards we took the meat and loaded in onto the boat. The other ships, who were engaged in huntings of their own, greeted our good catch with honks with their horns. We waved back at them, knowing that our friends would get some whale today as well.

After some hours travelling back, we came to our city and docked. My fiance greeted my at the harbour with a big kiss and told me she would show me some hunting movements in bed! Hehehe!

We sold the meat the japanese and earned some $1.40 billions.

Who says whaling doesnt pay!

Stig-Lennart Sørensen - stigs@stud.cs.uit.no