Sorry OP, I got a bit carried away with my run ons...
It was a dark night and OP's mom came out of the office looking for a quick fix, the kind that she'd have to scurry down dark alleys interacting with strange men in cardboard boxes to find; though she knew it wouldn't be easy, she had a feeling that she just couldn't shake, an itch that needed to be scratched, and so she left the office, turned left and walked to the fifth streetlight (which was out) and turned left again, bringing her down the dark alleyway, and even though it was about 12 feet wide, the darkness and tall brick walls on either side made OP's mom a little more nervous than usual, and her stomach knotted in agreement.
She ran into a man, he was a shark man, and he said "give me your money or I'll bite your dorsal fin clean off" to which OP's mom replied "I have but six pence" and the shark said, "very well," and laughed like this "harharhar" and then bit off OP's mom's dorsal fin, leaving her maimed and bleeding in the alley until a nice gentleman arrived to help her, picking her up off the street and bringing her to his operating table where he stitched her up, brushed her scales, and cleaned the road salt out from between the little pads on her feet, to which OP's mom said "thank you" and the man said "you're welcome" with a sparkle in his eyes and they had their way with each other right there on his kitchen table, which was for some reason covered with unfinished cans of Chef Boyardee; because they didn't use protection, OP was conceived and born a demon child, with fish scales, a budding dorsal fin, and Chef Boyardee meat ravoili for brains, and although some people who saw him felt sorry for him, the others were not brave enough to test him for hell hath no fury like Chef-Boyardee-for-brains OP's mom, and rumor has it that she kidnapped the last person to make fun of OP on the internet and brought them back to her lair where she gutted them, laid eggs inside their abdomen, and in a few weeks a thousand little OPs came forth into the world to bring pain and suffering to all the miscellaneous forums of the internet.
OP: "If you suddenly skied off a huge fuckin cliff and you only had time to throw one last trick before you died, what would it be?"
Malcolm: "id probably just flail my self to death"