Fried Fish

After arriving home from work today, I noticed that I had forgotten to turn the lamp to my fish tank on in the morning. As I turned the lights on, I soon realized to my horror that all four of my African chiclids were dead. Their bodies strewn across the tank landscape, as if they had been stricken down by an angry Neptune. Their mouths frozen open to reveal the true horror of their final moments. Their once brilliant colors had been stolen from them and all that remained was the pale grey of death. The only sign of life left in the tank was lowly plecostamus. The bottom feeding sucker fish had some how escaped the clutches of death. It was as if the Fish reaper had passed over and upon seeing the hideousness of this fish, decided he was tortured enough.

I immediately began searching for the cause of this genocide. Had someone unplugged the filter? No! The filter was still running... Maybe someone had accidentally knocked some bleach or other cleaner in the water? No... There was nothing like that around. I leaned my hand on the glass... It was hot way too hot. It suddenly came to me. Somehow when my brother and I moved the tank the day before, the setting on the tank heater was changed, and the fish had slowly began to cook overnight.

I couldn't stand the thought of having an empty fish tank so I got the kids in the car and went down to the fish store and dropped another 40 bucks on some more chiclids. I guess all that's left now is to give the dead fish a proper burial and send them home via the great white porcelain altar.