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Wednesday, August 17, 2011

From "The Betrothal: Or How I Saved Alan Edwards from 40 Years of Hell" by Richard Raley

The Betrothal: Or How I Saved Alan Edwards from 40 Years of HellTad walked by his fish-tank.

“Got any new ones?” I asked and instantly regretted the good manners my mother had whipped into me.

“Nah, man.  I got too many, and they’re kind of breeding now, so I don’t want to introduce a new species that will start eating the little ones.”

“Does that happen often?”

“Well, it’s not like you’re standing here and suddenly there’s a feeding frenzy with sharks gnawing on tuna heads,” Tad defended.

I followed him into his bedroom.  “Basically you go to bed at night and when you wake up some of the smaller fish have gone off to see the Big-Fishie-in-the-Sky?”

“Exactly.  I mean, there isn’t even any blood.  Just the occasional floating fin…they don’t like eating the fins.  And you got the mini pool-scooper for that, don’t even have to touch it.”

“Why couldn’t you have gotten a dog?”

“You find me a dog that glows in the dark and I’ll buy one,” Tad said as he started packing his duffle-bag like suitcase with clothes and bathroom supplies.

“With the miracles of science, you never know.”

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