If you have not read the first installment in the 'MISSING' series, please scroll down and read that first.
Have I got a story for you.
So, the fish. When I left off, it was about 6pm on Wednesday, July 30th (which is still today) and we had no idea where our fish was. Well, we found him.
Carol was getting antsy, freaking out about where her fish could possibly be, asking me if I was in on some kind of practical joke (I wish I was in on it. I wish someone would bring me in on a practical joke involving kidnapping a fish.) Finally, she just started getting desperate, looking through all of the rooms, checking the bathrooms, the toilets, the trashcans. Then she started crawling across the ground, running her hands under all of the furniture, the chairs, the tables, the couch- "AH. I FOUND HIM. I FOUND HIM. I FOUND HIM." She just sort of collapsed on the floor looking so freaking disgusted, staring at the couch and we were both screaming and she scooped him up out from under the couch with a lid and dumped him back in his bowl AND HE STARTED LIKE, SEIZING AND SWIMMING AND WE WERE FREAKING OUT BECAUSE HE SHOULD NOT BE ALIVE HE WAS UNDER THAT COUCH FOR AT LEAST TWO HOURS. And he was all covered in lint and hair (because we don't vacuum very often) and he was SUFFOCATING but we couldn't do anything because he's A FISH and after a little bit we just sort of sat back and let him lay there because he had to be exhausted after somehow JUMPING OUT OF HIS BOWL AND FLOPPING THREE FEET UNDER THE COUCH and we were watching TV, hyperventilating because let's be honest, we are freaking out. After a little while of him lying at the bottom of the bowl we decided to poke him with a pencil and I was only six inches from the bowl and she touched him AND HE LEAPED UP INTO THE AIR AT MY FREAKING FACE AND WE'RE BOTH SCREAMING and falling onto the floor BECAUSE THIS FISH SHOULD BE DEAD. He's living up to his name. Hades. Lord of the dead.
We spent the next hour poking him every few hours to make sure he was alive.
Then... suddenly he wasn't alive.
We called time of death at 8:23pm.
I have since planned a traditional Viking funeral. We plan to send him off on Sunday at dusk.
For those of you who don't know what a traditional Viking funeral involves, we will be putting him in the beautiful boat pictured below, placing him in a water vessel of some kind, and lighting him on fire. (We're leaning towards a kiddie pool. We have limited resources.)
This took me an hour to make and I actually kind of don't want to set it on fire.
Have I got a story for you.
So, the fish. When I left off, it was about 6pm on Wednesday, July 30th (which is still today) and we had no idea where our fish was. Well, we found him.
Carol was getting antsy, freaking out about where her fish could possibly be, asking me if I was in on some kind of practical joke (I wish I was in on it. I wish someone would bring me in on a practical joke involving kidnapping a fish.) Finally, she just started getting desperate, looking through all of the rooms, checking the bathrooms, the toilets, the trashcans. Then she started crawling across the ground, running her hands under all of the furniture, the chairs, the tables, the couch- "AH. I FOUND HIM. I FOUND HIM. I FOUND HIM." She just sort of collapsed on the floor looking so freaking disgusted, staring at the couch and we were both screaming and she scooped him up out from under the couch with a lid and dumped him back in his bowl AND HE STARTED LIKE, SEIZING AND SWIMMING AND WE WERE FREAKING OUT BECAUSE HE SHOULD NOT BE ALIVE HE WAS UNDER THAT COUCH FOR AT LEAST TWO HOURS. And he was all covered in lint and hair (because we don't vacuum very often) and he was SUFFOCATING but we couldn't do anything because he's A FISH and after a little bit we just sort of sat back and let him lay there because he had to be exhausted after somehow JUMPING OUT OF HIS BOWL AND FLOPPING THREE FEET UNDER THE COUCH and we were watching TV, hyperventilating because let's be honest, we are freaking out. After a little while of him lying at the bottom of the bowl we decided to poke him with a pencil and I was only six inches from the bowl and she touched him AND HE LEAPED UP INTO THE AIR AT MY FREAKING FACE AND WE'RE BOTH SCREAMING and falling onto the floor BECAUSE THIS FISH SHOULD BE DEAD. He's living up to his name. Hades. Lord of the dead.
We spent the next hour poking him every few hours to make sure he was alive.
Then... suddenly he wasn't alive.
We called time of death at 8:23pm.
I have since planned a traditional Viking funeral. We plan to send him off on Sunday at dusk.
For those of you who don't know what a traditional Viking funeral involves, we will be putting him in the beautiful boat pictured below, placing him in a water vessel of some kind, and lighting him on fire. (We're leaning towards a kiddie pool. We have limited resources.)
This took me an hour to make and I actually kind of don't want to set it on fire.
Here is his current resting place on our windowsill. (We need to dry him out enough for him to catch flame.)
Details of the service to follow.
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