"Wow! That's some shiny lure you got there?"
"Well, Charlie, it's what they go for," Sam tied a knot around a brilliant string of gold, "They'll see this chain and mooch right up on it."
"Works better than food?" Charlie was perplexed. For bait, he always used something he knew his catch found appetizing.
Sam nodded and flashed a broad, toothy grin. "Oh, yeah," He cast his line, "Just watch."
A moment later there came a tug on the line.
"You got one, Sam!" Charlie slapped Sam on the back, "Pull him in, Sam, pull him in!"
"I'm trying!" Sam leaned back as far as he could while spinning his reel, "He's a fighter, and I don't want to snap the line and lose him."
"Aw, look at him, Sam," bemoaned Charlie, watching the catch get slowly reeled in. "He's a scrawny son-of-gun," He shook his head, "Ah, that's no keeper."
Sam agreed, "But he sure put up a good fight for such a puny thing."
Sam released the catch from the bait when POW... Sam got it right in the nose.
Charlie laughed. "You alright, Sam?"
"Yeah," Sam rubbed his face, "But whoever told people to punch sharks in the nose to avoid an attack is the one slob I'd really like to get a hold of."
"I guess it's people like that guy," Charlie pointed his fin at the gaunt man swimming away, still clutching the gold bait, "They do it and get away unscathed, perpetuating the myth." Charlie shrugged, "They just don't realize we were going to throw them back anyway."
Frustrated and determined to land the catch of the day, Sam baited his hook, this time with a pearl pendant, and cast his line on the beach, landing it right beside a plump man munching on shoestring potatoes, fending off gulls.
"Alright, Charlie, hope you're hungry."
Sam flashed that toothy grin again.
"This one's super-sized and comes with a side of fries."