As I walked down the hall this morning to my office, I felt the lingering whispers of "fiiiisssshkkiiillllerrrrr" following me, like there was an eerie presence in the air, hovering over my shoulder. When I turned around, it was just Jack. "I went and saw your fish this morning," he said, very cryptically, and then slipped into the bowels of the
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Comments 13
he's really just messing with you now.
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(I am going to ignore the OTP part of your comment. *sniffles*)
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Plucky little bastard.
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A match made in heaven.
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Also want to go on record that I once killed a friend's gerbil I was supposed to be caring for.
GERBILLLLLLKILLLLLLEEEEERRRRRRRRRR!
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We are killers together! darkunderbellyoffandom.
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(The comment has been removed)
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Having read that page, my question is this: WHO THE HELL PAYS FOR SURGERY FOR FISH?!?!?!
I mean, really.
And that list of treatments! I'm thinking if the peas (green, skinned (!), mashed) don't work, by the time you get around to an internal parasiticidal medication the fish will probably be dead.
Seymour really is plucky.
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I have not yet tried the green peas. I don't know if I'm ready to admit that I CARE THAT MUCH.
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