The Daily Rick

Yesterday, Linds and I were killing time before going to pick up her sister from school. I decided to go to Scales N Tails, the little aquarium store up the street from here. The algae was getting a little out of control in the fish tank so I thought I'd see if an algae eater might tackle the problem a bit. Well, they were fresh out. I was looking around for some other alternative when I happened upon the bettas, a.k.a. the siamese fighting fish. They always look so pathetic in those little cups they keep 'em in. So I thought...I wonder if this little guy could hang in my tank? I asked the guy running the place, a very nice biker lookin' fellow, if bettas are good in community tanks. He said, yeah, they'd be fine. They might be a little skittish but they'd be fine. So I had Linds pick one out and we took 'im home.

After the usual waiting period, I netted the little guy and threw him in. We decided to call him GeorgeForeman (one word) as a joke.

I don't think he got it.

I left the apartment for a few hours to talk Dr. Tran with Breehn. When I got back, I looked in the tank. GeorgeForeman was on the gravel sideways with all his fins picked clean, one of the frogs snacking on his gills. The entire fish tank had murdered him. It was like a scene from HBO's OZ.

I've been saying how surprised I was that I hadn't killed a fish yet. I think they heard me and decided to cannibalize the next new fish in the tank (the prison analogy continues).

We had an 8-second funeral for GeorgeForeman. He's the first fish I've had to flush down the toilet in over a decade.

Here's to you, GeorgeForeman. Sorry you were such a pussy, you gentle fighting fish, you.