That’s right. Keep walking. Pay no attention to the goldfish. It’s not like I haven’t had my water changed in like 3 months. I’m not hungry, no. I’ll just swim here and let you nice people go along with your business… I loathe you all.
When you purchased me from the local Petsmart, you assumed that I would make a nice adornment for that little table at the edge of the kitchen. No one stopped to think that a fish would want some company from time to time. Instead you shove me in a corner and hope I don’t decide to off myself and flop out of the bowl spontaneously. It’s been three god forsaken years and the only attention I get is from Annie. When those furry paws dip into my bowl oh so delicately no one even cares! She has tried to make lunch of me on at least ten different occasions!
My lord, don’t even get me started on that rubbish you refer to as “fish food”. You know what it is? Dense little chunks of mystery substance that swell up and get sodden before my little mouth can wrap around them. I’ve heard you complain about soggy cereal, well how do you think I feel all the time. Plus, that fish on the side of the bottle is always challenging me to a battle to the death. I mean I obviously can’t get to him but I feel like if I don’t come after him he’ll think I’m fearful of him. So, I bounce my head off the side of the bowl until he cowers.
I would really like to say something about your decoration skills. I have multihued rocks. No little plants, no shipwreck, no mermaid, just rocks. The tanks at the aquarium felt much more like home. Here I have nothing to swim through or hide in or anything. I’m just out bearing it all, all the time. Have you never heard of privacy? I guess there’s not really room for a treasure chest in here being as though you cheapskates won’t buy me a real tank. I’m stuck in this lousy bowl that has about three inches of swimming capacity. How is a fish to keep in shape, huh? Oh, and I bet you never even thought to yourself that I would be claustrophobic! Even if I wouldn’t have been from the start I most definitely would be by now anyways. How could anybody live in these conditions?
One more thing, quit calling me Mozart. My name is Jerry. J-E-R-R-Y. Who are you to just up and decide that my name is Mozart? Who names a fish Mozart anyway? A bunch of fruit loops that’s who. I hope you know that I’ve decided to rename all of you too. Gordon, I call you Nigel. Patti, you are now Zena, and for the two girls, Rita and Debbie. How do you like it? You don’t, that’s how.
My life has been devoted to finding a way to pass the time but I won’t do it anymore. Tomorrow, I’m letting Annie eat me.