I'm sorry my little file-o-fish.

I'm sorry my little file-o-fish.

I'm going to eat you right now. I'm also going to eat your friend, French Fry. No, you can't talk me out of it so don't even try. It's late & I'm hungry, my little filet-o-fish.

I will drench you in juicy sauces and cut open your crumby skin. Your soft white flesh shall not last long against my jaws. O, tasty fillet, your pleas mean nothing now.

CRUNCH! Chew. Chew. "Oh, yes, tasty fillet, you and the tartar sauce I soaked your soft, white body in are now in my stomach, swimming around."I hope you took swimming lessons, or

learned fractions." He rubbed his half-full belly and focused his attention on the fish's twin. The golden breading steamed, the warmth wafting to the rafters, where unseen

fish commies circled their prey. Obviously they're screwed, nobody can stop the irresistible momentum of the Commie Fish, except of the power of fractions...

The fastest fishies started to run, hoping that they could escape the commie fishies power, for the fastest fishies were the commie fishies arch-enemies.

Then the fish started talking and the next morning I was so hungover so I just assumed that I was drunk and now I was missing two finger but why am I missing two fingers

I woke up with a tiger