Short Story – The Molluscs In An Adventure With Copyright Law

Before we begin the discussion of international copyright law and the dull, monotonous detail within, we must first answer the question that must be burning within your very mortal soul: What is a Mollusc, and why should I choose this story to read over the many hundreds that exist? Well, Dear Reader, allow me to add some much needed context to the situation at hand, and maybe, just maybe, I can convince you to continue reading this thought provoking masterpiece, that I, the world’s most humble man wrote,  just for you.

Molluscs – Wheres, Whys and Hows

Throughout the annals of time and moreover throughout the human race’s lengthy and blood-soaked timeline of historical events, there has always been a singular constant, that surrounds and binds us. This constant lurks in the darkness, never making itself particularly apparent to those unfortunate enough to be its latest victim, but never stooping to cowardice either, for it is one of the human traits they despise. They choose when to appear with great care and precision, forever caught deep in contemplation of future events. Or perhaps they just grow weary of their mortal coil, who can say really? I, our omniscient narrator  most certainly can’t, where would be the fun in that?

Still, this creature was present at the dawn, and it will remain till the dusk spreads itself over the face of the earth like a snug, welcoming duvet. Unfortunately, this duvet signals the end of human existence as we know it, but you catch my drift. This creature is called a Mollusc, and it desires nothing more than to eviscerate and maim, being entirely primal in nature, but uncharacteristically intelligent for a creature with a deceptively small brain. Small, deadly, and sort of humorous to look at, at least until the disembowelment begins with a shocking degree of efficiency, this proud species has witnessed some of the more prevalent events in our history, from the assassination of John F. Kennedy, an incident in which they both hindered and aided a mystery gunman (The mystery shooter was in all reality, aiming for Mrs. Kennedy, but the Molluscs intervention caused the rogue bullet to hit John instead), to the popularisation of the Macarena.

But soon, they grew tired of humanity’s evil and foolish ways, and staged a mass forced exile of their own species, banishing themselves to a small island off of the coast of the Isle Of Capricorn. Living in the undiscovered and uninhabited jungles was a welcome change of pace for the violent, yet majestic creature, and there they stayed for many a generation, waiting, hiding. Some decades after this serene and beautiful island retreat began, the Molluscs found themselves once again entangled in the web of human history, after being uncovered by a famous nature videographer, who was rather unfortunately disembowelled on national television. This is where our story begins proper ladies and gentleman, and how, after several popular novels and a feature film, the Molluscs were slapped with a copyright infringement lawsuit, by one of the most influential and powerful law firms on the east coast.

An Additional Note

The Molluscs speak entirely in a dialect made up of various repetitions of the word “Nun”, but fear not, any confusion on your part will be rendered null and void, due to my expert skills in the art of translation. Some people call me narcissistic, but I prefer the term “impossibly excellent”. God, I’m humble.

Viva Las Vegas

In a series of bodacious and totally hip adventures that have been omitted for time reasons, the Molluscs travelled the world, killed any that opposed their ideals of mass genocide, and grew increasingly enraged when Iceland was entirely vegetation based, despite their arctic themed name. It was the little things that bothered them the most. But now, the Molluscs had begun a lengthy and much-deserved vacation, in Vegas, Nevada, the most clichéd and vibrant place to begin any debauchery-free night of clean,  family fun. Pool parties, interesting people, and copious amounts of gambling.

The Molluscs were in heaven, Mrs Mollusc especially, who had amassed a small fortune after putting a single quarter into the Egyptian themed slot machine in the hotel lobby. Feeling rather pleased with themselves, the group of Molluscs who decided to hit the casinos scuttled back to their respective hotel rooms, planning to meet up with the other branches of Mollusc family who had gone to various other locations at breakfast the next morning. But when they returned to their spacious, yet affordable motel room, they found the room in a state of disrepair; a single pillow lay forlornly on the carpeted floor.

Many wept, some sobbed, but their leader, Frank, kept his composure and investigated, hoping to catch the heinous perpetrator in the act, but was instead greeted by a single, thick document. Now, a mollusc may be an intelligent creature, but their reading and writing skills leave a lot to be desired in the grand scheme of things, not many private schools were still operating where they came from. But with a great deal of difficulty, and several magnifying glasses, the Molluscs came to a disturbing and crushing discovery: they were being taken to court by Excellent Lawyers Ltd., the most formidable and cutthroat law firm on the east coast. Leaving them with only one option, the Molluscs set out to do what they knew was they had to do, they would hire a better firm to represent them, no matter how vast the language barrier, and no matter the cost. After all, Mrs. Mollusc had just struck it big.

But in the 10 minute break they had spent deciphering the document in their almost pristine room, Mrs. Mollusc had done the unthinkable; she had slunk out of the room, and spent it all on a large assortment of sun hats, for use when gardening.

The only flaws in her foolproof scheme were as follows: their house had no garden, was currently located in a sewer, and most heinous of all, Mrs. Mollusc had never expressed an interest in gardening at all, until today.

“Nun! Nun Nun Nun” yelled Frank, demanding to borrow some of Mrs. Molluscs’ small fortune. Words were said, feelings were hurt, and another pillow was knocked off of the bed, but when she began to cry deeply, Frank decided they would have to do the unthinkable. They would represent themselves in the greatest trial of the century, against the most powerful firm conceivable.

The Molluscs Go To Washington

The Molluscs packed away their many possessions, and scuttled the window of their hotel room, not even leaving so much as a tip for the poor maid who would have to clean up those two forlorn pillows come morning. They were on a mission, and nothing was going to stop them now, not even the thought that they were forgetting something, which they were, but in the end, they decided that if it was really that important, they would have remembered by now. Two-thirds of the Mollusc community waited at the buffet table, anxiously awaiting their brothers and sisters. They never came.

After an uneventful flight, the Molluscs touched down in Washington, DC, and stormed into the offices of Excellent Lawyers Ltd, demanding an explanation for the lawsuit they had been inexplicably slapped upon them. But, in a surprising turn of events, no one could understand their protestations of innocence, and instead mistook them for threats, also inexplicable, as “Nun” isn’t a word that conveys many positive emotions, nor negative ones for that matter. Security guards appeared from the elevator, and glared at them expectantly. Not a word was said, nothing really needed to be verbalised in all truthfulness, and the Molluscs piled themselves into the deceptively large elevator, leaving the competition, alone and dejected , in possession of nothing but a sticky note that had a set of dates and times on it, Thursday, 23rd of June, Imperial Courthouse.

The days flew past, and the Molluscs still had nothing to say in their defence. They didn’t even really know what they were being accused of to be entirely honest, but they figured it may have had something to do with the dismemberment and mass funeral expenses they brought wherever they went, but they weren’t really sure in any case. What no one had thought relevant to mention in the paperwork was that they were being sued by two famous authors, who believed that the Molluscs were based on an idea they had, despite Molluscs predating the existence of time by several billion years. The human mind is a strange, illogical thing.

The day had arrived, the Molluscs dressed in their best clothes, which consisted of nothing but the shells encasing their small, vaguely reptilian figures, and, deciding they couldn’t delay the inevitable any longer, stepped into the courthouse. The room they were being prosecuted in was the largest room available, which was filled to maximum capacity, full of gawking spectators, and a Jury of 12, impartial beings who decide the Molluscs’ fate, once and for all. The bailiff made the Judge’s typical introductions, and  a hulking man in a bizarre looking wig stepped out from his chambers, sitting at his desk with a steel gavel in hand, waiting for an excuse, any excuse, to hit something, or someone.

“Will the defendants step forward? I’ll hear your opening statement, and what you plead.” the Judge said with all the enthusiasm of a bored safari instructor who hated his job with a burning passion. The Molluscs had no clue what was being asked of them, but they’d be damned if they were going to go down without a fight. Frank decided he, as the natural leader, would represent them, and he shakily approached the gigantic, muscular judge.

“Nun, nun nun nun nun, nun nun, nun nun.”

The representatives of Excellent Lawyers Ltd. were stunned. What in the name of Xena, Warrior Princess, was that? Everyone else had been moved to tears, even the stoic judge, who wiped a single manly droplet of pain and sadness from the corner of his eye. The man they had chosen to speak on their behalf, a scrawny man named Burt, was flabbergasted. This was one hell of an act to follow. Approaching the judge with a trepidation that was most commonly observed in a gazelle being hunted by a ravenous lion, Burt was crying for a vastly different reason than the rest of the raucous crowd.

“I don’t think I need to hear anything else. These beautiful creatures couldn’t have committed any kind of fraud, or infringed on any copyright laws. I hereby exonerate them of all crimes, from now, until the end of time.” the judge boomed, causing Burt to have a stroke and heart attack simultaneously.

Even the unnamed, unimportant men who were suing them shook the Molluscs small claw-hands, forming an unspoken bond between them. World peace was declared, War had ended, Disease was no longer a plague on the lives of so many individuals, and best of all, the Molluscs received copious amounts of tax rebates, just because the US government felt like it.  Imagine all the sun hats Mrs. Mollusc could store in a cupboard and never use now! The Molluscs may not have meant to, but they ushered in a new era of peace and prosperity for all. They were content, and above all, they were happy.


Now, what’d I tell you? Didn’t I say this was a story for the ages? Yeah, and you didn’t believe me. I guess in a roundabout sort of way, I’ve vicariously made your lives better, even if a short story about possibly-sea-dwelling Molluscs can’t distract you from the crushing, depressing, reality we  all struggle through on a day to day basis, forever. So, if you take one thing away from this tale, let it be this: I’m really impressive. But if you take away two, know this: I will always be better than you.


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