I was standing in a kitchen talking to a colored cook. She told me that she always bought her fish whole and prepared them for cooking herself. She pointed out to a huge ice box standing in the backyard. The door was open, and inside was a large fish. While I watched, the fish rolled over, sprouted legs, and crawled away. I started to yell for a gun. We had to kill it before it killed someone. The owner of the house came running in clad in undershorts only and handed me an old bolt action rifle with a white handle, and a box of bullets marked M-1404 B. 30 cal. I ran out the door after the animal. The house appeared from the kitchen and the backyard to be my fraternity house.