"The worst part about getting old," she said,

"The worst part about getting old," she said, "is forgetting things. Who are you again?" She smiled passively. "I'm James, Gran. Your grandson." He was always so patient with her.

"Anyway, Gran, as you're all alone in this big house, I thought you might like a friend." He placed a fish in a fishbowl on the table. "Oh! It's beautiful, i'll name it Arnold!".

She gingerly lifted the goldfish bowl. "I will bake him a pie and knit a scarf." "Gran, I don't think that..." Gran glared at me "You didn't have time for me, but Arnold does."

And that was the beginning. Two years later, Grandma passed away & left her entire estate to Arnold. Yes, that's right. Arnold became the world's first millionaire fish. We were

inseparable then. He was a Arnold the millionaire goldfish and I was his personal assistant. At first it was easy, but the money and women went to Arnold's head, which forgot eveyt

Arnold watched the figures of his bank account rise in the same way a teenage boy watches dirty music videos: technically okay, but with more pleasure than is socially acceptable.

He ran around frantically, giddy like a little schoolgirl as the money went up and up. Thousands to ten thousands. Ten thousands to millions. Loudly, he screamed "I'm gonna go buy

the Urantia book! Finally after all of these years i am going to read it!" His bankers who surrounded him, hoping, looked askance at him as holdings neared a billion dollops. Stock

-s rose and fell like mighty waves in a mal-de-mer. The bankers got sea-sick. Meanwhile he read a few pages and then put it down. "Not my cup of tea," he said. They defenestrated.