The little fish tank was located on a high shelf behind the counter in a takeaway. Neville was hanging about at the front of the tank, watching customers come and go.
"He's frying fish again!" Neville was almost beside himself. "Oh my COD, look at that! The poor sole, fried to death!"
A small guppy called Valerie joined Neville and surveyed the scene. "Don't carp on, Neville. There's no reason to panic. That's Sabrina they're serving up out there. She deserved to die, she was a nasty old trout."
"But still," said Neville, "that could be me next time! Battered to within an inch of my life, fried in chip fat and served up with chips and mushy peas."
Valerie rolled her eyes, which is quite something to see in a guppy. "Nobody would want to eat you Nev, you're a goldfish."
Neville was still not happy. "Somebody would." He watched as a tall skinny human wearing lots of gold chains and rings and pink fluffy headphones slouched up to the counter. "Look, here comes Poop Scoopy Dogg. I bet he'd eat me. He's a greedy git. I wonder why he never puts on weight?"
Valerie wandered off. Neville quietened down for a bit. That is, until Scoopy put his order in, and Dave behind the counter started serving up four large fish and chips.
Then Neville completely lost it and started to scream like a little girl.
Behind the counter, Dave put down the fish he was trying to wrap, folded his arms and turned to face the tank. He fixed a steely gaze upon Neville.
"Will you pipe down?" Dave was annoyed. "I'm trying to work out here!"
"Sorry," Neville mumbled, and spent the rest of the evening looking sheepish at the back of the tank.
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