The Firefly Field Theory

|8| Quit It With The Acronyms: Part IV

PART IV:

Bravo carries Annie inside and as soon as she wakes up from the commotion the first thing she says is, "Flame, I have to feed Flame."

My fuzzy state of mind admits it has heard that before, and since we all are completely drained nobody responds until we are inside the house.

"Okay guys, we don't have much time." Bravo, the leader announces.

"Flame I have to feed her!" Annie whines once again.

"Sam you go help her, okay you guys on the count of three."

With that the three siblings stand on an imaginary line in front of the set of stairs.

"One. Two Three."

On three they simultaneously shoot up the stairs and vanish before I can say douche bags. I am left with Annie.

"So where is the fishbowl?" I ask.

"In the kitchen." Annie says rubbing her eyelids.

"And the food?"

"In the kitchen." She repeats.

Obviously the girl is still half asleep. I make my way into the kitchen and stand there for a little moment before trying again.

"Where is it Annie?"

"In the cabinet."

"Which one?" I ask because they are like sex cabinets in this kitchen and she is not helping.

"That one." She points at one of them.

I immediately comply by opening it and inside I spot a round glass fishbowl, clutching it with both hands I carefully place it on the kitchen counter.

"And the food?"

"In the cabinet."

Oh My God.

"Which one?"

"The same one! What is wrong with you?"

I am kind of pissed at this overly snappish bipolar devil child. But instead I focus my energies on finding the damned fish food. I make a second attempt and grab hold of an orange packet with elaborate seaweed and a cartoon fish with eyelashes and because it qualifies as food meant for fish, I hand it to the impatient Annie. She opens the packet and sprinkles a pinch full of miniature multicolor globules into the water. By then I take a closer look at the happy home of the pet goldfish and I am immediately hit with doubt.

The fish isn't, and I don't use this adjective lightly, alive. I mean it is not dead either; it's just that to very blunt, it isn't exactly living in the happy fish bowl.

A very keen eye and AP Biology is qualification enough to reach this conclusion. For one to qualify as a Goldfish the species needs to be golden, with shinny delicate scales and also needs to know how to swim utilizing fins. This imposter just floats around like the brats in the kiddy pool, who harbor the delusion that floating is an art they can associate with swimming. The abomination is a deep orange color and is almost the size of a fist, with an oversized belly. It has exaggerated eyeballs and pursed lips, somehow comically expressing how bored sick out of the fishbowl she is because of us. There isn't a single scale to be seen on it.

A fish either opens its mouth periodically or vents water out from its gills, to breath and ultimately live, since this phony is doing neither I conclude it isn't breathing, thus it isn't living. It avoids the food completely. So basically she was whining all this time just so she could feed her manifestly counterfeit Goldfish?