The long-awaited sequel to Ernest Hemingway's classic novel The Old Man and the Sea is finally here!
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THE DEATH OF SANTIAGO:
The Old Man in the Sea

"Santiago!!" yelled the boy, Manolin, as he ran up to the old man's cabin.
"Santiago!!" the boy stopped at the old man's doorstep, panting breathlessly.  The old man opened the door, seeing the excited young boy smiling up at him.
"What is so important that it can't wait until morning?" asked the old man.
"Remember the lottery ticket we were going to buy?  Number 85?" the old man nodded patiently as the boy caught his breath.
"I just got word from the city," he beamed, "It won!!"  the man's eyes widened.
"I don't believe it!" The old man smiled, "Think of the things we could buy!" he laughed and jumped about the room.  He hadn't felt this good since he had caught that giant marlin.  The voice of the boy interrupted his celebration.
"Too bad we didn't buy one, eh?"  the old man's smile faded, and was replaced by an expression you would expect to find on an ax murderer.
"You... didn't buy the ticket?" asked the man, eyeing the axe in the corner of the room.  The boy shook his head.
"WHY NOT??" screamed the old man in a voice loud enough to wake Ernest Hemingway from the dead.
"First you borrow, then you beg," recited the boy, "Those were your words."  The old man's right eye began to twitch.
"Excuse me for a second..." he said in an ominously evil voice, walking to the corner of the room.
"You told me not to buy the ticket..." the boy continued.  The last thing the boy said in his life was the word "ticket."  The last thing the boy saw in his life was an axe flying toward his face.

The next day, Santiago was brought to trial for the murder of Manolin.  The old man sat down in the seat provided for the defendant.  The old man looked to his right and saw a man sitting next to him.
"Oh hello," greeted the old man, " You must be my lawyer."
"Quiet, you," answered the lawyer.
"This court will now come to order!" boomed the voice of the judge, banging his gavel on the bailiff's head.  The prosecutor stood up.
"The prosecution will prove that this man murdered the young Manolin in cold blood!!" the old man stood up. 
"That's not true, his blood was warm!"  there was a murmur from members of the jury.  The old man overheard some of their comments:
"Well, I'm going to vote guilty no matter what!"
"I'm not even going to listen to the rest of the trial."
"Quiet, you," advised the old man's lawyer.  The old man took his advice.
"I would like to call my first witness to the stand," announced the prosecutor as ominous music built in the background, "MY MOTHER!!"  A gasp arose from the jury as a very scary woman approached the stand.
"Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?" asked the bailiff.  The woman pulled a cleaver from her purse and hacked away at the bailiff for a few minutes.
"NOBODY accuses ME of LYING!!" she yelled, stepping over the corpse of the bailiff, and taking a seat at the witness stand.  The prosecutor approached her.
"Now, would you please explain, in your own words, what you saw last night?"  The woman, still holding her cleaver, nodded.
"Every jury member who dares vote innocent will join the bailiff in his fate."
"No more questions, your honor."  The prosecutor sat down.  The old man's lawyer now stood.
"Your honor, I object!  The stench of that corpse is distracting me!"  The judge sighed.
"It is the bailiff's job to clean up corpses," he said, "where IS that bailiff, anyway?"
"HE'S RIGHT THERE!!"  screamed the lawyer, pointing at the corpse.
"That's not the bailiff, that's a corpse," argued the judge, "Objection overruled."  The frustrated lawyer sat down.
"I have no questions then," said the lawyer.  The extremely scary woman stood up and exited the courtroom through a remarkably un-solid wall.
"I now call my next witness," said the prosecutor, pausing so that the jury members could prepare to gasp, "MANOLIN!!" the jury members gasped as a coffin was carried in by eight very strong children.  (They were on a field trip, and the teacher had promised them that they could carry a corpse)  They dumped the corpse onto the witness stand, then sat down in the audience.  The prosecutor approached the pale corpse, nearly tripping over the bailiff in the process.
"Objection, your honor," the old man's lawyer stood up, " There is a one-corpse limit in this courtroom."
"IF ANYONE USES THE WORD 'CORPSE' IN THIS COURTROOM EVER AGAIN, THEY'LL BECOME ONE!!" screamed the judge.  The prosecutor began his questioning.
"Manolin, I would like you to indicate the answers to the following questions.  Now, being dead and all, I can understand how you might not have much energy..."  The body responded by decaying a little bit.
"Now... if the old man DID NOT kill you, please raise your hand."  The non-living version of Manolin didn't move.  The jury, on cue, began to murmur.  The judge banged his gavel on the air where the bailiff's head used to be.
"ORDER!"  he yelled at the already orderly courtroom.  The prosecutor had sat down.  The old man was shaking his head sadly.
"It's no use, he has two eye witnesses!"
"Quiet, you," said the lawyer, "I have an idea."  The lawyer approached the body.
"Manolin, please raise your hand if the old man DID kill you.  Manolin's hand rose.
"That was unexpected," said the lawyer, sitting down.
"That is all, Manolin, you may go now."  said the judge.  Manolin's body instantly decayed into nothing.
"I will now call my first witness," announced the old man's lawyer, "SANTIAGO!!"  the jury gasped.  The old man approached the witness stand.
"Santiago, did you kill Manolin while there was a full moon?" asked his lawyer.
"No," answered the old man.
"Did you kill him when there was a new moon?"
"No."
"I therefore conclude, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, that if the moon was neither new nor full, that Santiago could not POSSIBLY be a werewolf."  The old man's lawyer sat down.  The old man was relieved that people would now finally stop calling him a werewolf.
"So, Mr. WEREWOLF," began the prosecutor, angering the old man,  "WHERE WERE YOU ON MAY 12, 1924?"
"I don't remember that long ago..." answered the old man.
"I would like to point out to the jury that the defendant has a very CONVENIENT memory."  The jury murmured.
"No further questions, your honor."  The prosecutor sat down.
"Do you have any further witnesses?" asked the judge as the old man returned to his original seat.
"No," answered the lawyer.
"In that case, this court has no choice but to rule in favor of..."
"WAIT!!" yelled a man who had just entered the courtroom, interrupting the judge.
"What is it??" asked the judge irritably.
"That man didn't kill Manolin.... I DID!"  announced the man.  The jury gasped.
"Just who are you, anyway??" asked the judge.
"My name.... is Ernest Hemingway!!"  the jury gasped.  Ernest casually approached the witness stand.  The old man's lawyer hesitantly approached.
"So...uh... how do you know my client?" he asked.
"Well," Ernest began, "First of all, he's not real.  He's a character in a story called The Old Man and the Sea."  the jury murmured.
"Objection!!"  the prosecutor stood, "This man is clearly mad.  His testimony should be stricken from the record!"
"I'll prove it!" said Ernest, producing a piece of paper and a pencil seemingly out of nowhere.  He wrote on the paper, "The old man died."  An old man in the jury suddenly died.
"Oops, I'll try again," he said, writing "Santiago died."  Santiago then died.  The prosecutor laughed.
"HA! Now I win this case by default!!"  Ernest smiled and wrote some more.  "Santiago came back to life."  The old man then came back to life.
"Any other questions?" asked Ernest smugly.
"How's this?" asked the prosecutor, holding up some papers.
"These are your death certificates, for successfully completing death.  According to these, Ernest Hemingway died in 1961!  How do you explain that, Mr. Hemingway...?  If that IS your real name..."  the jury murmured.
"Well," began Ernest, " I was sleeping peacefully in my grave when I was awakened by a yell.  I instantly recognized the voice of Santiago.  I then managed to dig myself free, and well, here I am."  The prosecutor growled, and sat down.
"Now, Mr. Hemingway, if you could please tell us what happened on the night in question....?" asked the old man's lawyer.
"Certainly," said Ernest, "It all began with a winning lottery ticket..."

"You... didn't buy the ticket?" asked the man, eyeing the axe in the corner of the room.  The boy shook his head.
"WHY NOT??" screamed the old man in a voice loud enough to wake Ernest Hemingway from the dead.  Ernest, hearing this, managed to dig himself free of his grave.
"First you borrow, then you beg," recited the boy, "Those were your words."  The old man's right eye began to twitch.
"Excuse me for a second..." he said in an ominously evil voice, walking to the corner of the room.
"You told me not to buy the ticket..." the boy continued.  The old man suddenly charged toward Manolin with the axe.
"HEY MANOLIN HOW DO YOU LIKE THIS AXE!?!?" he yelled.  Manolin looked up at the gleaming metal of the axe just inches from his face.
"Woah..." said the boy in awe, reaching up to touch it.
"OW!" yelled Manolin.
"What?" asked the old man, setting the axe down on a table.
"I cut myself," said the boy, holding up his hand.  His blood was dripping onto the floor.  The old man lifted the boy's hand to his mouth, and drank the warm blood.  The boy gasped in a jury-member-like fashion.
"The rumors are true!  You are a werewolf-vampire!!" the boy screamed and ran out of the house.  Meanwhile, Ernest Hemingway was walking up the path to the old man's house.  On the way, he overheard a conversation.
"But... you promised!" a child was complaining.
"I'm sorry, but there just aren't any corpses for you to carry!"  That was when the boy met up with Ernest Hemingway.
"Oh, thank goodness I found you!" said the relieved boy, "I've been attacked by a space-mutant werewolf-vampire bat!"  Ernest Hemingway lifted an axe in front of him.
"Any last words?" he asked.  The boy gulped.
"I wish I had bought that ticket."  Ernest threw the axe at the young boy, delighting the children that were standing nearby.
"Yay!  A corpse to carry!"

"And that's the story," said Ernest.
"Objection, your honor!" yelled the prosecutor, "that man referring to himself in the third-person gives me the willies."
"Sustained," agreed the judge, "Ernest, stop giving the prosecution the willies."
"Ernest understands and will comply," said Ernest.  The prosecutor suddenly began to twitch as the willies surged through him.  The judge ignored him.
"Well, in light of this new evidence, this court has no choice but to rule in favor  of...." began the judge.
"WAIT!!" yelled the prosecutor, "I thought the jury was deciding this!!"
"THE JURY IS ONLY FOR MURMURING AND GASPING!!" yelled the judge, "Santiago, you are free to leave.  Ernest, you will be tortured to death by the bailiff for the use of the word 'corpse' in the courtroom.  I hereby place all eleven surviving jury members under arrest for excessive weirdness."
"Thank you, sir!" said Santiago excitedly.  He gleefully ran out of the courtroom.  His lawyer sighed.
"Boy, am I glad it's finally all over..."

It's too bad for Santiago that this is a four-part story.

Santiago had always led a simple life.  Wake up, catch fish, go to sleep.  After the trial, he was glad to get back to his old routine.  It was early morning, and the old man was sitting in his boat, in the middle of the sea.  (He knew it was the middle because someone who had no life had put a buoy there that was clearly marked "DANGER."  This was the native word for "Middle")  The old man had decided to fish here, since the area was known for its huge fish.  This was where the old man had caught the giant marlin.  The old man fondly remembered the time he had spent trying to kill that fish.  He remembered with affection the way his hand had cramped.  He chuckled at the memory of nearly dying of thirst.  Suddenly, the line in his hand began to twitch.  The boat began to move as the old man tried to bring the fish in.  He quickly realized what was happening.  He had caught another giant marlin.

3 1/2 DAYS LATER....

The fish was finally beginning to come up.
"Jump, fish," the old man prayed, "Please, let him jump."  Suddenly, the fish jumped out of the water, soaring through the air and crashing into the old man.  He fell into the sea.  The old man laughed.
"Do you think that I don't know how to swim, fish?" he asked.  That was when he saw it.

There was a full moon.

The old man's left hand began to cramp.
"No!!" he yelled.  But it was too late.  The transformation had begun.  The old man desperately tried to tread water during the mutation, but it was no use.  He was changing into his true form: A Super-Deformed Psycho-Class Metabolic Space-Mutant Werewolf-Vampire Bat from Beyond.  And, as even the dimmest humans know, psycho-class creatures can't swim.  The old man, with one last yell, sank beneath the waves.

The fish laughed.  He had avenged his brother.  The old man was dead.  There was only one more person he needed to kill... a certain fisherman who worked part-time as a judge......

Also available for online viewing:
If you liked The Old Man in the Sea, you'll like The Butcher even more.
...or you can sit back, relax, and prepare for a lengthy reading of Chrono Trigger

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