An eel.

What do you do when you spot such a thing" A 311 call seems inadequate. He thought, at first, that they were snakes. Two enormous contractor bags, bursting with serpents, ripped open and spilling onto the path along the southwestern edge of Prospect Park Lake, looking like the Well of Souls in Raiders of the Lost Ark. But they were another nightmare entirely: eels. Hundreds of foot-long eels, writhing lethargically and ready to die.
Andrew Orkin had been running. (Not from the eels, at least initially.) A composer by day, he?d jogged from his home in Prospect Lefferts Gardens through sunset in the park. The crowds had diminished as the afternoon?s humid barbecues thinned out, and as he rounded the southwestern edge of the park on Sunday, he slowed to stretch in a quiet spot along the lake near Vanderbilt Playground. Then he picked up on a sudden commotion. A woman screamed. Whipping around, Andrew glimpsed a terrible, wriggling pile. Could those be snakes leaking out of that bag" The woman seemed to think so. Andrew isn?t a New Yorker?he grew up in South Africa?and he knows about snakes. He was ready to sprint off, until a fisherman tipped him to the strangeness at hand. Dominick Pabon, who was nearby by the lake?s shore, has been catfishing there at night since he was 14. He?s seen some shit, but nothing like this. But Dom, a chef and oyster caterer, knows the park?its ecology, its rules, its derelictions?and he notices when things are unusual. H...