Innsmouth Harbor

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The monster rose from the ocean depths, its screech shattering the salty air.
Ronald fed it a chip. Its tentacles writhed happily.
“So this is what you do on Saturdays?”
His date frowned, further increasing her resemblance to a duck. Ronald shrugged.
“He’s friendlier than the seagulls. Bigger appetite, though.”
“Actually, I should get going…”
Ronald watched her waddle away down the pier, feeling slightly relieved. He turned back to the water and flung the chip packet in a graceful arc, landing it squarely in the monster’s maw.
“Thanks man,” he said cheerfully.
The tentacles undulated, as if saying, anytime.