Chapter Three

Morton didn't understand this strange behavior by his campaign director. Why was he being jabbed so savagely by his employee? Shouldn't he be showing proper respect for his superior? Morton grabbed the little green net he was being attacked with, and yanked it out of the surprised campaign director's hand.
"What was that for?" Morton demanded.
"Bad Bubbles!" cried the campaign director's wife. "Give that back this instant!"
Morton couldn't understand what she was saying, but he noted her angry expression, and decided she must be scolding him. Scolding him? The future President of the United States? Who did she think she was? Morton angrily grabbed a passing tang.
"Our Blue Tang!" shouted the campaign director's wife.
The campaign director clapped a hand over his eyes.
"Stop him, John!" she said furiously.
"What am I supposed to do? He stole my net!" the campaign director retorted.
"Do something!"
"What?" he insisted, "What would you have me do? Just pick him up and throw him out?"
"Fine by me. I don't like Bubbles anymore."
"You can't just dispose of an octopus. It's illegal. In fact, it's even illegal that we're keeping him in this tank."

Morton was disliking his campaign director more and more. Now he even had the nerve to fight with his wife like that! How dare he treat her with such little respect!
Suddenly Morton had a pang of homesickness. He missed Geena. Even if she had broken his heart and run off with that creep Randall.he wished he could see her again. He would apologize, and beg her forgiveness, and she'd smile, and say she would dump Randall, and..

"Fine Susan, have it your way. We'll just take him out and throw him back in the ocean. Are you happy now?"
"No, John, I'm not. I don't think that you're handling this in a mature fashion. All this yelling is hurting my feelings."
And finally giving up on his spastic wife, the campaign director slumped silently into a chair.

Morton realized that he'd never see Geena again at the rate that this campaign director was moving. He decided to fire him.
"Take me back to my lagoon." Morton asserted. "You're being let go. I'll find a new campaign director."
The (now jobless) campaign director seemed to consent. He gently placed the little red bucket next to Morton in the tank, and Morton gladly slid inside.

The first thing he would say when he saw Geena again would be how close he came to the Presidency. She'd be very impressed, he was sure.