Carl is looking particularly casual here, whilst leaning against the car, this is because he believes that he may have had a take, and after only 76 hours of intense saltwater flyfishing.
Chris, "Saltwater fly kicks arse, it's the sport of the future."
Lars, "I feel a Viking Slaughter coming on."
Paul, "It's almost beyond belief, are you quite sure it wasn't seaweed, Carl?"
Carl, "No not entirely, but I felt that it *could* have been a fish... maybe even a big one."
Chris, "Take us through it again Carl, I want to hear the story again."
Carl, "Well there I was, intensely concentrating at all times, like Viking Lars said, and I had just begun frothing at the mouth, as Paul said I would, when suddenly I had a feeling that something was different to the other three and a half million retrieves, and the end of the flyline moved almost two centimetres!"
Paul (to Chris and Lars), "Acid - it's the only possible explanation."
Lars, "Paul, there's much to the world that doesn't make sense, perhaps it really was a fish after all."
Paul, "What? You mean that since life itself is such an unlikely occurance, and that no one understands it; that there are billions of stars out there that seem to have just 'happened' and appeared out of nothing, with or without the existence of various Viking Gods, that the possiblility that Carl had a take from a fish, without the benefit of mind distorting drugs, is something that, although seeming entirely reasonable to anyone never having tried it, and yet completely unreasonable to everyone else standing on this beach - that is everyone with an ounce of sense in their heads - that in spite of all of this, you think that a fish may actually have taken Carl's fly?
Carl, "Are you questioning my ability make things up?"
Paul, "I don't know what I'm saying any more, I have lost the ability to reason."
Chris, "Quick, get him in the water; now's the best time."
Paul, "No, don't make me go back there, I can almost feel my feet again."
Lars, "Just one more Sexyloop."
Paul, "Gerroff, ummpphh, I don't know who I am, where have all the French maids gone?"
Carl, "Quick, stick his head under water; he's starting to make sense again."
Lars, "Launch the woolly bugger, Paul."
Paul, "Eat sand, Lars..."
Denmark or Bust - it's a trance state.