"That was moment!" He loudly exclaimed "and

"That was moment!" He loudly exclaimed "and you ruined it!" He finished, as he dashed off and began to sob

water from his tear ducts which ran down his face and dripped onto the floor where a small puddle amassed. In this puddle he placed a fish which he named Arnold.

h a slap around the gills and a sardonic smile "your blood pressure will curry no favours for you here, my fishy little friend". Arnold tried to explain that he didn't eat curry

. "I don't eat...cur...cur...cur..." Blasted stuttering! It happened when Arnold got nervous. "You d-du-don't scare mu-mu-Me!" Arnold's fins fluttered furiously. Just then, a fish

-wife dipped a net into the "pond" where Arnold the fish lived. He panicked and swam away into the shadows. "How much for the snapper?" Someone laughed.

I'll take $5 he said. It was deal. Arnold was caught and sold...and cooked. On the table, the man realized something weird about the fish meat

. "Wait a second, this isn't fish," he said, looking down at the pink-tinged flesh on his fork. "It's

pickled Barbie Flesh!" I had to laugh a little at that. Everyone knew that Barbie was served poached or broiled or fried, but never pickled. Plastic just doesn't take to brine very

well. Of course, no-one was laughing when we were made to eat the under-cooked plastic, feigning enjoyment, but I think we've bonded over the shared trauma.