To have your very own fishing spot in quiet and peaceful surroundings is without a doubt the greatest joy a man can experience. Add a cold beer to the mix and one can achieve a level of satisfaction and fulfillment that is unmatched. It's not about the catch, not at all, it's about the meditative and therapeutic sensation only attainable in solitude with a fishing rod. But what happens when another fisherman suddenly disturbs the peace and has the audacity to fish from our protagonist's regular spot for the past 25 years? Doesn't he realize that another man's fishing spot is sacred ground? A fierce battle breaks out between the two fishermen but it's difficult to duel over territory when at the same time they must abide by the holy unwritten rules of fishing that dictates them to be dead quiet to avoid frightening the fish. A battle of words instead becomes a battle of hand gestures which is interrupted spectacularly by an inattentive truck driver who has run his truck off the road and into the clear water. The truck driver isn't carrying an ordinary cargo though and as the cargo doors are pried open someone or something slips out into the small and calm forest lake. Suddenly our hero must face not only the hostile fisherman above the surface but also the horrors lurking beneath.