"An essay on grunions, written entirely in octameter." Or, "sometimes Google sucks."

I went to see the grunions run, but naught a grunion ran tonight. The chase was staged with company – a friend I’d met at camp, and Ro, the guy she’d met through me albeit by accident, I’ll have you know. At half past twelve we three joined up at Champs, a seedy local bar, and Jo and Ro and me, of course, piled in my car and drove to shore. We landed at an empty beach, I parked my car in a red zone. We all piled out, cameras in tow, to watch the frenzied mating start. A thousand fishes, more or less, would come on shore to dig and spawn, and pickings would be plentiful, we’d heard, but all the fish were GONE! I scoured the sand both high and low, but gulls and terns were all I found. NO fish were present, I’ll be darned! The internet was wrong this time! It turns out Google’s full of dung, and grunions had the final laugh!!