It was wholesale abalone slaughter the day that Kelly got his pump action twelve gauge shotgun from K-mart. Him and his buddies went out in a twenty-foot pontoon boat they got from the army surplus store and rowed into the cove. They would take turns diving for new victims and then tossing the hapless creatures into the air while the other would blast them apart with twelve gauge slugs. Wholesale abalone slaughter indeed. It may be a slight exaggeration, they weren't very good shots, but when they did make contact, it wasn't pretty. That abalone didn't have a chance.
Now Kelly was just no good and no-account, but Billy's dad actually had a wholesale abalone business, trading with a Japanese businessman who had saved him from the burning wreckage of his downed Spitfire during the war. Wholesale abalone had actually put food on his table for most of his youth. Sven, the oldest, and best shot, was just bored, and after a few hours of watching pink abalone spray cascade into the water alongside smoking shell fragments, he realized that this was truly wholesale abalone destruction and wanted nothing more to do with it. The other boys disagreed, and tried to fight him for the shotgun. That was the last thing they ever did, and Sven's family had a nice abalone feast that night.
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