Monodon Monoceros

Once upon a time, there was a silly sort of dolphin who could not see for lack of echolocation. All of his companions made fun of him for bumbling and stumbling about the ocean, especially comical for lack of things to stumble upon in the great wide sea. Eventually, it became so that fish would poke fun at him. Laughing with their scaley little fin-gers. At night, the dolphin started to believe that he could hear an endless chorus of plankton, giggling at his plight. It was terrifically saddening to see, a blubberous dolphin blubbering about his inability to echolocate. So, amidst all of this melancholy, the dolphin left his pod and ventured out to the lonely see, bumbling this way and that, but at least no one was there to laugh at him. For a long time he wandered, past wondrous chasms and glorious flocks of jellyfish lighting the depths like stars. Of course, the echolocation-less dolphin did not know he was in the presence of beauty, nor did he know what stars were or that they were considered beauty-full. He valued what he had, however. Pretty alright food, two perfectly good flippers, and a solid noggin. Otherwise he may not have been in able to bump into so many things. At long last, he came to a university of fish. He found experts in all the fine arts and sciences. Artist fishes. Mathematician fishes. Scientist fishes with little lab coats and beakers, though that was not appreciated at the time. He at long last found a place where he was not viewed as a freak, he was an object of science, though that was still not quite as good as being equal to other all things in his own right. The pre-med fish studied his brain. The fishes studying physics tested exactly how unable this poor dolphin was to see. The geologist fishes studied fishures, or so the liberal arts fishes liked to joke. After all of the prodding and investigation and conversation, one ingenious fish came upon a solution. They would modify the cellular code of the echolocation-less dolphin to contain the gene of a magical unicorn. Damn the scientific accuracy of such a proposal, they're fish for goodness sake, at least they were trying. Through grueling hours of science, the dolphin endured, at last waking up, still unable to echolocate. Distraught, he demanded why they'd ever subjected him to such an ordeal. He raged and cursed like the allusive sailors he'd never seen. Calmly, the lead fish doctor explained, "For now and ever onward, you shall be known as the narwhal and no longer bump into things. The horn upon your head will give you a warning of at least three feet, and the lady narwhals will be impressed by the vigor of your 'rod.' Please, go forth and prosper, we've done all we can." Realizing what this meant for him, the newly christened narwhal cried undetectable tears of joy into the dark and salty ocean. Thanking the good doctors who invested their time, he left the university and return to his pod. Hesitant to greet their prodigal, bumble-less friend, his rediscovered dolphin pod was silent at his arrival. They easily echolocated the stunning new horn and were amazed. Right before they met their death at the hands of the narwhal spear.