Aquarium-side, she studies one such eight-armed, quick-change artist... 

...as it dodges her attempts to fish it out, eludes her net, provokes a pout of consternation.

"I won't hurt you," Vina pledges.

But the octopus is nervous; it behaves as if she might. It has been captured once, imprisoned in a box outside its sea bed, forced to cope with constant gargling noise, cramped quarters, isolation, and the prospect of becoming someone's breakfast, i.e. brunch, as Vina flushes it from hiding.

"Gotcha!"

Alley-oop; she hoists it.

In a last-ditch ploy to save itself, the mollusk gushes ink - a jet-black stream of which bespatters Vina's...

"BLENDER!" Vina bellows as she drops the squirmy scoundrel. "Do that one more time, I'll lop your head off pronto. Filthy trick."

Her scalpel brandished, Vina scrapes a tiny sample from the cephalopod, then returns it to its humdrum tank - KERPLUNK.

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