Spike, the Octopus, discovered that the rustling of autumn leaves on a fall day sounds like the gentle lapping of the waves as they make their way to the ocean shore. Feeling a tad homesick, he convinced his red-haired hostess to spend that day in the park. When others would come up to them and start to chat, Spike would politely ask them to leave, since it was the solitude and the sound of the falling leaves that he was after. But since his English was not the best, or perhaps since humans were not fully accustomed to communicating with cephalopods, to most of the people, Spike's reply sounded more like: "leaf me alone", which is most likely what the leaves were thinking that day as well.
No matter where his travels would take him, Spike took loads of Polaroids. As the days wore on, Spike filled one photo book after another. When he'd have a dinner guest over, he'd reminisce about his travels as he'd go through his photo books. His Octopi friends were dutifully impressed by his travels, but truth be told, they were also a bit jealous of Spike's terrestrial adventures. Yet, as Spike was quick to point out, being an Octopus out of water is no picnic---he had to be carried everywhere---hence his mermaid companion--and for some strange reason, heads would turn every time he passed by. Being different comes at a cost, he reckoned.