The man had been married for three years. In his life, he hadn’t done much, just lived a life full of fantasy and imaginings. He used to spend his time driving around following different people. All sorts of people. People from all walks of life. He wasn’t paid to do this. It was rather something of a hobby. He would follow people in his car, as they walked down the street, as they did their grocery shopping and as they stopped off at public toilets to do their business. If they made a single mistake that was uncouth or not exactly in order he would report them to various authorities such as Centrelink, the tax department or the police force. The police force thought he was a pest. The government departments obliged his requests, they would do anything to conserve the taxpayer’s dollars.

One day he followed a woman. He fell in love with this woman. But he knew she was out of his class. She was a refined government official. She had wealth, she had prestige and all he had was… was… Well, that was the thing. He didn’t have much of anything. So he contended to recreate himself.

He followed her and found out that she was seeking a partner through various dating websites. So he created himself a dating profile and interwove his life with hers. That was five years ago. They had been married for the past three years.

They were now living in a mansion. He had put forth the point of view that he no longer had any money because his ex-wife had taken all the money in the divorce. This wasn’t the case. It was simply that he was a pensioner who had been living off the disability support pension for a prolonged period of time because of a back injury that had been caused to him in his early twenties.

He had spent most of his life taking painkillers and daydreaming a life that he could have led if the damage had not been done to his spine. And now he lived in a mansion. A mansion with a million dollar view of the ocean. While his new wife went off and worked her professional government job he would stay at home. Living a life of quiet luxury. Playing golf on the weekends. He had swapped his life of poverty for a life of a rich retiree.

He was what was called a rock lobster. A rock lobster is someone who lies and cheats their way into the upper classes without having any abilities of their own. He had done it.

When people would come by to ask about his wife, while he was alone, of course, he would reply, “I don’t know her. But this is mine, all mine.”

When his wife’s children would come around. He would reply, “Oh, I don’t know them either. But this is mine, all mine.”

The locals would laugh about it. They would laugh and whenever he would walk past, they would play the song, ‘rock lobster’ by the B-52s. They thought it was great.

And the rock lobster. Well, the rock lobster lived happily ever after.

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