(Author's Note - so, I'm going to wind this up shortly - It's all been factual so far, but here's a very short, short story I wrote awhile ago for some strange reason...I hope you get a smile out of it!)
Angela stared dubiously at the tiny octopus in the bell jar that the salesborg was holding out toward her. Its eyes were closed and it sported a rather unfortunate shade of purple around the edges, rather as if it had dried out before being placed in the jar.
"Are you sure it's still alive?" she asked.
The salesborg grinned and shook the jar. "Wakey wakey!" he cried. The octopus opened its eyes and glared at the salesborg. Its eight tentacles rippled in annoyance.
"Cute," said Angela, rather nervously running a hand over her shaved head. "But what does it actually do?"
"Einstein here is a mathematical genius," boasted the salesborg. "With him at your side, you'll never lose a card game. Or at least," he added cautiously, "You'll know when to fold."
"Hmm," said Angela doubtfully.
The octopus pressed its face against the glass, magnifying it horribly. Its little triangular mouth opened and it said, "Hey girlie, make up your mind! I don't want to stay in this jar for ever, ya know?"