By: Daiyu Tang
Photos: Daiyu Tang ((No AI))
Yes yes, I know that could in Hathian be taken to mean that the subject of my interview is out there seducing all the women, but in this case as my second image hopefully illustrates… it’s more a demonstration of skill. That’s what I found the most obvious about Merrick when I met him after seeing his advert that we carried last week. He’s very good at his job. He advertises himself as a tracker, trapper and outdoorsman (I had to look that up, seems to be a very American thing). After one Observer-arranged field test, we can add a fourth category: wife wrangler… And if I might, it helps to confirm that romance is not dead, dear readers. It is simply hanging upside down from a tree while a professional wife wrangler proves his invoice has Merrick/Merit.
The Suspicious Reader
Hathian readers are a suspicious lot. I say this with much love as your Editor, because suspicion is one of the few local instincts that has not yet been stolen, stabbed, fucked out of you or sold at the Pawn Shop. If a business advertises that it can solve your problems, most of us ask what kind of problem, whose problem, how ‘legal’ the solution is, and whether the invoice has a reasonable sticker price (while not being sticky itself).
So when Hook, Line & Sinker placed an advertisement offering tracking, trapping and property-protection services to Hathian and the surrounding area, I decided that a polite advert was a fine start, but a field test would be much better journalism. You don’t expect me to carry ever ad blind and assume that they will serve you well dear reader? I’ve been to CMNF parties, attended balls, tried different drinks, tasted Zeek’s meat and more; all in the service of trying to find things in Hathian that are fun, rather than have ‘you might die’ vibes.
Anyway, this is how my fiancée ended up hanging upside down from a tree… YEAH. Wait… I should probably show you the photo and then explain how we got there because I’m feeling quite smug…
Romance Is Not Dead. It’s Simply Tied Up And Swearing
I first met Merrick Ashwood at his bait shop in Laveau, after taking the long drive down in the Observer van and trying not to remember quite how many strange, swamp-adjacent horrors this paper has covered in that general direction. That small church in particular and the cult murders and flaying… Yeah. Anyway, the Hook, Line & Sinker is exactly the sort of place you expect it to be: wood, supplies, outdoor gear, useful objects with more than one possible interpretation (BEAR/MAN Traps), and the smell of a business that would rather solve things with rope than paperwork. The one concession to electronics was an still quite out-of-date till.
Merrick, the new owner, greeted me with a cowboy hat, a grin, and Laveau charm that makes you think he probably knows three ways to catch dinner, two ways to catch a trespasser, and just one way to make love.
“I ain’t just slingin’ fishin’ poles and bait,” he told me. “When I bought the joint I knew I wanted to offer more to folks interested in campin’, huntin’, ya name it.”
The ‘ya name it‘ part is doing some work there. Some real work. I felt like it was important to dig into this a little more. The Bayou has had businesses like Air Tours that did the same thing; ‘Look Daiyu – legitimate business’ but then had, under the surface extras.
Merrick explained that while the shop sells the expected outdoor gear, he also offers services built around hunting, tracking, trapping, perimeter protection and practical deterrence. Not the glossy security-contractor kind with branded polo shirts and men who say “ma’am” and probably work for Bowen at Lions’. This was more old school. More rope, chain and patience.
“Spose my methods ain’t fancy and not your typical security contractor,” he said. “But I get shit done.”
I asked whether that made him the bait-shop equivalent of a bail bondsman or bounty hunter. He did not quite take that label, which is probably wise from a liability perspective, but he did not entirely run from the idea either. “I just know I got a keen eye for huntin’ and trackin’,” Merrick said, “and I ain’t one to judge what folks be needin’ those kinda skills for.”
Non-Lethal Security Options
Merrick was careful to frame his traps as non-lethal. His listed options were surprisingly restrained in their capacity for serious injury, which I appreciated because while Hathian has many flaws, I do like my articles to avoid becoming evidence packets unless absolutely necessary. He spoke about securing property, discouraging unwanted visitors, marking intruders, and creating methods that allow a client to know who or what has been somewhere they should not have been.
One example involved livestock dye: the sort used to mark animals without killing or seriously harming them. In Merrick’s version, that might become a way to mark a recurring trespasser, thief, nuisance or “critter” who needs to be identified later. “Works wonders for markin’ without actually causin’ harm,” he explained.
I’m thinking it might be excellent next time the city runs Mardi Gras, because the one or two idiots who persisted and got sprayed get a free costume because they could not resist snooping where they had no business snooping. Leave the snooping to the professionals like me is what I say.
His tracking pitch was similarly practical. He said his strength was less in chasing someone across international borders and more in learning patterns, watching habits, and knowing where to wait.
“All creatures big or small got habits,” he said.
Readers may notice that this sentence applies equally well to raccoons, gators, thieves, ex-boyfriends, private security, certain HPD officers, and half the people who keep returning to the same alley for ‘secret’ ‘conversations’ outside my office. Yes HPD, fucking hookers there is on camera. Anyway, Hathian is, if nothing else, a city of habits. Mostly bad ones and this is where Merrick may be able to help.
Proof Is In The Pudding
The question, of course, was whether he could prove the work. He had examples and he had estimates. He also had enough rope and chain in the shop to make me both professionally curious and personally concerned that Jizzy will find out and buy it all for BDSM, rather than proper purposes. Anyway, I suggested a demonstration… The problem was choosing a target who would not murder both of us afterward.
Vanora Blackheart briefly crossed my mind and then immediately left it because I enjoy having organs. Various local criminals were considered in theory, but there is a difference between investigative journalism and suicide with a camera strap and let’s be honest if we caught a few of them helpless, then I would not want to be responsible for a lynching that might ocur after. Then inspiration arrived, with tats and piercings and punk aesthetics and the future Mrs. Tang-Sanko’s general aura of trouble.
Clivia.
For legal and romantic clarity, Clivia Sanko is my fiancée. She is also a person who once used me as a battering ram in a fight we were supposed to win together, then somehow contributed to us both losing. This is important context because it establishes motive, fairness, and the fact that I am a saint with excellent hair and my revenge comes simple, easily and in service of my work. Merrick understood immediately.
“Ah hell! Ya mean catch Cliv and have her hangin’ like those shiitake ropes she likes?!” he told me. He did not say “shibari” correctly. Honestly, I was not going to be the one to stop him and the idea of Clivia doing some kind of mushroom based BDSM was too funny.
A week later, the trap was ready. The bait was simple, childish, and therefore devastatingly effective against my girl, who is nothing if not easy to provoke and make into a puddle of rage or other stuff… Merrick put a sign attached to a tree reading ‘CLIV SUCKS!’ This may not be the most sophisticated lure in the history of hunting, but if one knows one’s prey (and I’d like to think I do), one need not overcomplicate the trap. Cliv Sucks is factually true. She just took it the wrong way and paid the hanging price.
Cliv saw the sign.
Cliv approached the sign.
Cliv took the bait.
The snare worked.
Within moments, she was upside down among the branches, caught by the ankle, secured and suspended while Merrick stood nearby looking very much like a man whose business had just made its point. I, as a responsible journalist and loving future wife, took photographs.
Several.
From a recommend to Hathian Observer reader standpoint, this was excellent. The trap was effective, the setup was clean, the target was secured without visible injury. From a relationship standpoint, I will be making tea and possibly apologising for several days. Mebbe. Depending on how funny she admits it was.
The important thing is that it worked.
That matters because the Hook, Line & Sinker service is not really about cartoon traps or making one’s partner into a decorative warning for trespassers, tempting though that may be. It is about proof of concept. Merrick can read a target, set bait, choose a location, rig a capture, and make the problem extremely visible afterward. For property owners, shopkeepers, warehouse operators, rural clients, or anyone dealing with recurring trespassers, thieves or unwanted snoopers, that is not nothing.
Still, after seeing the demonstration, I can say this much: Merrick does not appear to be selling swamp-flavoured nonsense. His methods may not be fancy. His traps may not come with corporate brochures, branded pens or a reception desk that smells like lemon and disinfectant. But they work.
Ask Cliv.
Actually, perhaps do not ask Cliv just yet.
She may still be upside down emotionally.
