A little bit of building:
And a little bit of line stretching:
Enter the Man in the Brown Suit
We continue to ease down the bar and I notice a table top size ray with the man in the brown suit patiently awaiting his next meal. The fish is thick across the back and I guess him at 25-30lb. I toss a DOA shrimp his way for five minutes and he refuses to eat. I decide to try him with a size 1 clouser on my six weight. No way he'll eat this tiny fly, right? Wrong. One twitch and he slowly swims to the fly and opens his mouth.
I strip strike and he rolls like he was bothered by a pesky remora. I hit him again and this time let him feel the rod. He don't like this. I mean he really doesn't like this. My little six quickly doubles over as he surges away. He then turns to me and tries to lift his portly body out of the water. He is halfway successful and shakes his head and forebody violently into the air. The fly holds. He turns away again and this time successfully leaves the water, shakes his head and throws the little fly back at me 
. My wife snaps a quick pic of the aftermath which depicts the hole he left in the water.
Well this is where the story should end but it doesn't. I look down the bar and he is back on top of the same ray. I throw the DOA in front of him and this time he eats it like he'd never seen it before.
I'm solid on him and he buzzes 60 yards off my little reel in no time. He turns back and blazes toward the boat. I reel feverishly to keep up and the hook pulls . . . again. I'm getting tired of this. He went back to the same ray, again, and I spent another ten minutes trying to coerce him to eat, again. He was done by now and so were we. Boat on trailer at 4:30. Great day with my girls.
... 
