[~WRITE OFF THE BAT~] CARE TO ELABORATE?

Let's stab him. Let's stab him until the crimson red liquid that we loooove comes out. Stab him until our blood spurts out like fireworks at a festival. Is that okay with us? It is okay with us. Let's then run until we're panting like a man who's smoked his whole life. Let's take the beautiful, dirty brown rope, and knot a perfectly tight bow at top. We can jump off this precarious height, are we okay with that? We are okay with that. We will jump effortlessly. We will lose effort. We have fixed our self.

It smelled of the freshly mown lawn it had been thrown on. It was a little wet, but I like it that way. I unrolled it, dirtying my hands with the wet ink. While my eyes scanned the paper, much like a bar code is scanned by a cashier, my lovely wife came in, her long blonde hair askew on her head. Probably from sleeping in our rather stiff queen sized bed.
"Hi, honey!" I greeted her affectionately.
"Mmmmh." her eyes were still closed shut, and her eye boogars not wiped away. I turned my attention back to the paper and gasped, causing my young spouse to drop the coffee mug she was holding in surprise.
"W-what?!" my wife, Paige, asked.
"J-jimmy! Jimmy's in the paper!"
"What? No way!" She scurried to me, and snatched the paper from my hands.
It had been so long since we'd last seen Jimmy. He had long ago left our house claiming he'd strike it rich. The newspaper seemed to be claiming that he had succeeded.

Paige twirled the rather raggedy dress she had put on. And I fixed my t-shirt the way a businessman might fix his suit.
"Are we ready, Lee?" my wife asked excitedly.
"Yup, let's go to The Dome."
The Dome was the racing establishment Jim founded. It was a towering, circular structure. And the shade of black it was was the kind you'd see on those beautiful women in one of old biker movies. We were going there not to see Jim, though it was a plus, but to steal his fortune from under his nose.

But, don't get us wrong, we're not bad people. For example, long ago when we were, perhaps, a little more innocent, the two of us in our matching red suits came across a pack of dogs. We had not a penny to our name, but the starved, scruffy looking animals looked up at us with giant eyes. Many had multi-colored eyes. Truly beautiful.
"Ahh, puppies! Lee, do we have something we could feed them?"
We did...but it was the last of our food. We didn't eat for one agonizing week. Paige's face was sour for an entire week. I couldn't strand to watch her be so sad... I turned to the criminal life.

We arrived at The Dome sooner than our plan called for, and since we had time, watched a bit of the races. The cars zoomed, spewing their gross oil as they went. It looks so effortless, but I know better. Jimmy would crash all the time, coming out looking as if someone had tried to murder him with the dullest knife they could find. We'd always help him out and rush him tot he hospital...back when he loved us...

so many years ago, my lovely wife caught me sneaking in home after a long night of thievery. She had tears in her eyes, and looked as if an animal was living on her head.
"A-are you..cheating on me?" Paige burst into tears, not understanding.
I went to her and embraced her.
"No, honey...how do I explain? I'm...a thief..." Paige hugged me back now, overjoyed that I loved her still. From that beautiful night on, we were a team. And usually, you'd hear a sob story about how poor and helpless we the beggars are, but us? We're not sorry.

The heist has started, but there's a problem. As I look from my conveniently heightened window, I watch as Paige cowers in Jimmy's presence. Before he realizes, Paige straightens herself out, much like a politician must be able to do, and sings in the most melodic tone she can manage. Her head is held high as she recites a lullaby she told to me. Her grandmother, not so old when she taught Paige, had told he rof the song to help her with her insomnia.

Speaking of singing, that is how we came to obtain our bandit names. "Lyrical Bandits". Not the most creative, but it pleases me to know that the general public thought us notorious enough to name us. At the thought of it my fingers begin to feel sticky. On the most beautiful of nights, we'd go to an occupied house, perhaps of someone we know, and knock them out. We'd steal what we want and leave while they sleep. When asked what they remember, they all say they remember a woman singing to them in a melodic voice as they lay asleep. We used to do this because we had to. Now we do this because we want to.

I threw the teacup on the desk at him - after opening the window of course.It broke into a million little pieces, the elegant pieces were all over the floor as he looked up to me with anger in his eyes. though, as he foolishly looked up to me, my companion drop kicked him - very sexy. She polished her boot, butt swaying in the air, then jumped up, her coat flailing, and gave me a thumbs up.

Once, we were caught in a house and the cops were already there! They had predicted our pattern somehow. There was a terrifying moment where time seemed to stand still, a black cop with a pedophile type mustache had flashed his light on us. We were quivering in our corner, aware that our thieving days were coming to an end. But, he wasn't looking our way, he was talking to someone. Originally, we were to leave via the front door, but we leaped out the window then, never to rob that side of the tracks again.

Our mind is our best ally as well as our worst enemy. We have total control of itself until we start to have doubts, this ones grows like raging roots making your brain to turn up against you.

Madness is found in everyone one of us, even in animals. For example, the tarsier enters in lunacy if it is kept in captivity, and smash his fragile head against trees leading to suicide. As I can see, the brain is in a constant duty of trying to get the answer of what we need; If I am hungry I search a way to get rid of that situation. We all are wrapped to this cycle.

While we are in our necessary pursuit, If our train of thougs derails to certain point of being disabled to find an answer or a path, fear starts conquering our heads, We become machiavellian as everyone else loose their importance including oneself, were the sole porpose is too fulfill that need, that's when we got mad, what we can call madness.

Could an object possible have life, it sounds dumb somehow, if we consider biology, there are 7 characteristics that define if it belongs to this category; Cells, Metabolism, Growth, Reproduction, Iritability, adaptation, and movent. Saying this, is ridiculous for an object to have life.

What about imagination, can we consider it an object, a non-living thing? It can fulfill all this 7 characteristics in a different and abstract way. Cells forms tissues, tissues become organs, and the group of organs receive the name of system. Ideas forms concepts, concept become thoughs, and a group of thoughs receive the name of mentality. So we can said we have a different type of cell and they also have the ability to grow. And all growth needs of metabolism, in other words aliment. You can't imagine a new color since it is an idea you never had, the metabolism of imagination is knowledge, as more you know and experience is as far as you can reach. And the reproduction could be considered as mitosis, from one mentality you could split into many ideas that turns into new mentalities. Imagination is a parasite, it lives from our bodies, in this case, if we need to adapt to new enviroments, so our minds. And adaptation happens due of irritability, the ability to react, as well our imagination is always reacting toward new ideas. And in all this movement of electrical impulses of our brains, an alternate reality inside everyone who has imagination.

So everytime I play with a toy, it has life, since I create an alternate reality just for it and it's in the moment I stop playing it dies until I restart playing with it.

-Duuudee, shut up, you are high

It came, spreading throughout her body, crashing down like a tsunami. It swept away all thoughts, all cohesiveness. There was nothing left in her mind but darkness and fears. Her legs shook as if she had remained submerge in an icy cold lake for hours and yet, sweat pearled on her skin, as if she had been walking for days towards the furthest reach of an unforgiving desert. No description, no scientific tests, no poetry could grasp how she felt, could grasp the extend of her fears but it was there, living and breathing like a dark beast. It was there.

Terror.

It might have been desperation, a sudden somersault of the mind, born from her most profound desire to live. She would not die here, not like this, she would not fall to darkness. She would not fall to madness. There was so much more she could become, so much more she could do. It could not end like this. Not like this! She could not give up, not yet, not now. With efforts akin to that of a Greek hero challenged by the gods, she mustered some strength, just enough.

And she walked.

One step at a time, her hands searching, grasping the air, for something, anything. She stretched them as far as she could reach. Yet, she could not see, for, all around her, shadows growled and prowled, tense, like beasts waiting, patiently, for the right moment to pounce and devour their prey. Another step and the air was rip with anticipation, ready to explode like a pimple filled with corruption. The pus oozed from every direction, every corner. One more step.

It creaked.

She heard it, like thunder over her own gasps, far ahead. The cringing of old wooden planks that had seen far too many years and supported far too much weight. Instantly, she froze, like a statue of ice and horror. The shadow fell silent, the beasts disappeared. There was nothing left but her and darkness. She listened and waited, hopeful... And it creaked, once more, just a little closer. It was coming. She turned and, as fast as she could, she ran. Panting and gasping, tears streaming down her cheeks, she ran with despair in her heart and nightmares at her tail.

It crashed down.

It must have grown weaker as years passed by, or maybe it too, gave in to the horrors that lurked in the shadows, but beneath her feet, the floor collapsed. She fell for barely a few seconds and yet, it felt like ages. She tumbled down, a living mess of flesh, clothes, tears and screams, and then, she hit the ground. Gasping for air, she stood in a frenzy. Her mind had been distracted but it had not forgotten the fear. She touched and scratched and searched but there was no escape, nowhere to go. She was down a hole with no way to go up. The creaking grew closer, ever so slowly, advancing further and further in her direction. She looked up.

A dim light.

The shadows crawled away, darkness dissipated as the light grew stronger. She could see the walls now, and the floor. The hole was large enough for her to lay down and deep enough for two men. The walls where of solid rock, too steep to climb. Above, where she had been moments ago, the ceiling was of wooden planks and so was the floor. As for the walls, a dirtied white plaster that had seen far too many years. Rotten wood laid all around her. She kept looking up at the gaping hole, far above as she waited and waited. The creaking came closer, ever so slightly and then, finally, it stopped.

It leaned over.

She couldn't see Its face, for it was hidden under the deep hood of a long cloak that seemed to absorb all light. With one gloved hand, It held a candle, while the other remained hidden deep beneath the cloak. She couldn't see Its feet but was certain that It did not have any. It leaned a bit further and gazed down at her. She could feel Its gaze pierce the core of her soul and she felt herself shrink and shudder. Cold sweat ran down her spine as she clenched her fists, mustering all the courage that was left in her heart. And It leaned further still, inching closer and closer until she thought It might fall into the hole but It did not. It seemed to float, or stand, defying all laws gravity. It inched closer and, with Its other gloved hand, uncovered Its face as It spoke.

“You can never run, never escape, for I know you better than you know yourself.”

She took a step back, seized by sudden horror, and stumbled on a large piece of wood. She screamed, crawled away, closed her eyes but it was all in vain. It was no nightmare, It would not disappear, It would not be denied. And as madness took over the last wisps of her sanity, as her mind collapsed in a final spasm of horror, she would forever remember It. Not because It was horrifying, not because It was disgusting but because It wore her own face and spoke with her own voice.

She had drove her own mind to madness.

"Chance is always powerful. Let your hook always be cast; in the pool where you least expect it, there will be fish."
-Ovid

Hovering over the toilet, Fate suddenly had other plans. That is to say, he had a vision instead of, well, you can imagine what he had been doing. The vision hit Fate like a lightning bolt. Truly, it had come and gone just that fast. Yet, for a moment, the vision stood still. As if time slowed to a crawl. There was a burning tree in an empty field. Hanging from the tree in a mess of nooses, were fish. That was all. At the same time, an overwhelming feeling centred on the maximum security prison on the planet Wahoo. Why Wahoo? It had nothing to do with the vision, Fate was sure.
Fate sat down completely and ran a few long, boney fingers through his thick black hair. The vision was etched in his mind, like a photograph. 
As Fate reached for the toilet snail, he began to wonder what it meant. Clearly, the time for action had arrived. Right on time too! That numbskull, Nexus Zephyr had just left on a mission. That left... No one! Fate realized all his agents were sent out on assignment, taken ill, or at home celebrating the Martian holiday, XMAS.
Once he had finished up his private pass-time, Fate barged from the bathroom and promptly tripped over something. Or rather, someone. If you can truly assign the dignity of having a soul to little ugly fish with little human legs. 
The Legged Piranha looked up at Fate, who had stood hurriedly. "Ye' all done in there?"
"Y-yes. Listen, could you stand beside the door next time? I nearly broke my neck," Fate asked cautiously.
"Sure thing, pops!" squeaked the Piranha, before wandering into the bathroom, and closing the door. Promptly, another Legged Piranha stood where the first one had. 
"Sure 'ope he doesn' take too long! I 'ad a whole giraffe fer lunch!"
"Where'd you get a--never mind. Don't stand in front of the bathroom door. Uh, tell the rest. There's so many of you that it'd take me... Wait a minute." Fate had a fantastic idea. "Where's your leader?"
"Er, Tony's more ova' spokesperson, ye might say," said the Piranha.
"Call him what you want, but-"
"-Can I call 'im Dr. Bobbin?"
Fate held his forehead. "Where's Tony?"
"Dr. Bobbin? He's over in the com-put-er room," said the Piranha.
In a flash, Fate tore down the hall. The 'com-put-er' room was the Piranha way of referring to what Fate called 'his office'. True to their reputation, Tony and a couple other Piranhas were sitting in the corners, their bellies slightly bulging. 
The oldest of the Legged Piranhas, Tony had come from a school of fish that ate each other to death. Tony was the sole survivor. This new school looked up to him like a cool uncle. Unlike the other Piranha, who appeared to be dried pine cones, Tony looked like chewed gum covered in scars.
"An' wot can I do fer ye?" asked Tony in a much scratchier voice than the other Piranha.
"Where's my computer? Where's my chair and desk? Where's my video-phone?" Fate screeched.  
"Th' boys wanted t' order pizza, see? An' well... Waitin' ain't in our vocab'lary," Tony explained calmly.
One of the other Legged Piranha burped.
"Tell me again why you didn't go with Nexus?" Fate sobbed, sinking to the floor in his doorway.
Tony thought long and hard. Difficult for a fish. "Weren't it 'bout us eatin' the fabric of time 'er somethin'?" 
This brought Fate back to his senses. "That's right! There's to be another Unfortunate Fatal Occurrence! You must rally the other Legged Piranha and leave at once." 
"Wot', before our pizza?" Tony enquired.
"Post-haste!"
"Post-'ates?" Tony mulled this over in his mind while nodding. "Aye, tha' sounds 'bout right."
"Great. You're to take the S.S. Melody. It was recently refitted with a more stable propulsion system..." As Fate prattled on, he became aware of the glowing orange eyes staring blankly at him. "Go on the Flying Saucer, and fly to the planet, Wahoo."
The fish continued to stare.
"How do I put this more simply? Take the big flyin' thing to th' world with talkin' mushrooms." Fate thought for a moment before correcting himself, "Yummy talking mushrooms."
"Oh, why didn'cha jus' says so?" squeaked a nearby Piranha. 
Suddenly, a Piranha arrived in the doorway. "Pizza's 'ere!"
Fate buckled and fell flat on his back as a horde of Legged Piranhas stampeded over him. All of them chanting, "Pizza! Pizza! Pizza!"

Wherever the fish are, that's where we go. 
Richard Wagner 

An hour later, Fate unfolded the Encore Edition. He knew it was a heavily bias rag, run by corrupt reporters. Yet, the unhindered jaw of the left wing media always stirred his amusement. It made good toilet paper too. Since the Unfortunate Fatal Occurrence had run out of the stuff, Fate had bought the Encore Edition before heading to the loo. As it happens, the paper he had anticipated laughing at came with an unexpected surprise. 
The ones bestowed with Fate's Vision are often bombarded by the fact that they are not all-seeing. Mere images or rarely, sequences of events come to their Inner Eye. Perhaps the Gods thought too much power would corrupt the mortals. Perhaps, none of that mattered. 
What mattered was the article that Fate was reading. There was a picture of Nexus Zephyr there, and he was apparently being arrested. The article detailed that Nexus Zephyr had been found guilty of stealing five pounds of Christmas Grade Holly off the black market, and was sent at once to Wahoo's maximum security prison. 
"What in blazes is the meaning of this? That Toy Elf was supposed to be on a mission!" Fate declared. He paused to flush the toilet mercifully. "Wahoo... Is this why I sent those blundering fish to that planet? How is Nexus Zephyr connected?"
After a moment's thought, Fate put the Encore Edition to its primary purpose, and left the bathroom. There was a mess to clean up, and no Piranhas could possibly manage.

Guests, like fish, begin to smell after three days. 
Benjamin Franklin 

Wahoo. It gleamed in the view-screen of the Flying Saucer, where the Legged Piranhas were scrambling over one another to have a look-see. It was one of the blue planets in the Different Dimension. Not many were. Here, large bodies of water surrounded islands. Each island had a certain theme. One was a desert, one was full of dancing bushes, one was full of pipes, and one was lava. There were plenty of islands. It was a very interesting planet, to be sure. The low-gravity made it fun to jump around on, as the Legged Piranhas soon found out. When they landed just outside of Sandcastle Beach, the maximum security prison island. It was build out of sand. As you can imagine, the escape rate was terribly frequent. Casually, and formally, the prison was known as the Joint.
The Flying Saucer settled into the sandlot outside the Joint, before the Legged Piranha piled out. Each one of their glowing orange eyes scoured the area for talking mushrooms. Normally, the Legged Piranha were particularly disgusted of eating vegetables of any type. However, their logic followed this by, 'If it breathes, we can eat it."
Much to the horde of Piranha’s pleasure, a talking mushroom greeted them warmly, having recognized the UFO Organization’s flagship, S.S. Melody aka the Flying Saucer. 
"You must be here about the Fart case," said the mushroom man amiably. "The warden has been awaiting your arrival, please follow me, it's just through these doors."
The mushroom man didn't stand a chance.

Inside, the Legged Piranhas, led now by Tony, were greeted by the warden. The warden thankfully was a large-set human, which thankfully for this story, is about as pallet-able as vegetables.
"UFO, no doubt? Mr Fate had informed me of your arrival. This way, please! There is precious little time to waste." the warden looked around, and asked, "Where the devil is Reginald?"
On cue, one of the Piranha burped.
"Irregardless," the warden said, leading the way. "Our facility is state of the art, and before you enquire, yes... We do mean state of the art by intergalactic standards. While the walls are constructed from sand, we use force fields to hyper compress the grains into a virtually impenetrable fortress. Each holding cell wall is three meters in depth, and the doors are composed of condensed steel at one meter thick. Our locks are controlled remotely, as is the standard in Martian law. Do you have any questions before we continue?"
One of the Legged Piranhas approached Tony and whispered something. They looked candidly at one another, before Tony stepped forth to announce the question, "Will their be any food on this tour?"
Miffed by the lack of interest in his specs, the warden continued to lead through a long corridor. "At 0240 hours it was reported that Commander Fart had broken free of his cell. It is yet unclear why."
The progression stopped in front of a prison cell door.
"This chamber has not been tampered with or touched since the discovery and report had been filed to the UFO Organization. I trust your squad of--" the warden eyed the horde of fish. "--trained eyes can help us better understand this phenomenon. Nothing should be able to escape this cell. Yet, here we are."
A tall, slender guard arrived to their location, wearing what appeared to be a janitor's outfit. The guard reported, "Warden Nixegg. There's a commotion in the cafeteria. Kevinio has been injured."
"Right, on my way. Gentlemen, this is Freddio. He will assist you as necessary. Freddio, these are UFO agents, make sure they are taken care of."
Each pair of glowing orange eyes watched the large warden storm off. When he had gone, the fish turned to each other to discuss.
"Did anyone understand any o' tha'?" squeaked one of them.
"Sommit about castles an' farts." squeaked another.
"Wot 'e say 'bout this guy?" asked the first.
"Surposin' ter' take care o' us."
"Why's that?" asked another curiously.
"Why'd we come 'ere?" asked another Legged Piranha.
"Yeah! Who cares about buildings an' stuff?" 
"Who you callin' buildings an' stuff?"
"Maybe you!"
While a few of the Piranha started to fight amongst each other, the guard stepped in to set the apparently highly trained investigators on track.
"Uh, if you want me to open the cell or something, I'd be more than gla--" Freddio began to say.
Just then, the fighting Piranhas crashed directly through the cell wall, as if it were mud. Moving with stumbling haste, Freddio unlocked the door and found, to his continued astonishment, the fighting fish standing inside. A pair of disgusted, yet somehow blank, expressions stared up at Freddio. 
"Wot stinks?" asked one of the fish in the cell.
"You do, ye' fishstick," said the other one inside.
They promptly began to fight again. 
"Fascinating..." Freddio began to say, examining the wall while the rest of the Legged Piranhas played noisy spectators to the fight. "How did we miss this? The wall is somehow, stable, yet not solid... Of course! The force field! It condenses the sand in blocks. Somehow Commander Fart has replaced the sand mass with... Something."
"Eh, get off! Ye' really stink," said one of the two fighting fish. "Like ye' crawled into th' bowels of a hippo-pot-ermus an' then mucked about in doggie doo."
"He's right, lad! Ye stink worse'n a bog. 'Cept the bog's made o' rotten whale meat," added Tony.
"That's it! Commander Fart must have, well, farted his way out of the cell!" Freddio pulled out his nightstick and experimentally prodded all the walls of the cell.
In the background, one of the Piranha, after a long thought, said laughingly, "Ye' smell like a poop on a rat inna... Uh, inna hat! Tha's wot!"
Carefully, Tony walked over to the would-be joker, and patted him on the back with a fin. "Ye tried, Sloppy Tom. Ye tried..."
Sloppy Tom smiled proudly, drool dribbling between his teeth.
"Here... He must have got out through here!" Freddio glanced at the two smelly fish, and decided it best not to poke his head through the wall. "Come on, we'll go around outside."
"Is there food outside?" asked one of the Piranhas.

A woman needs a man like a fish needs a net. 
Cynthia Heimel 

The prison cafeteria was something out of a movie. There were inmates gathered in gangs on different tables, or fearfully cowering over what was said to be meatloaf. Here, the Legged Piranhas wandered in, completely oblivious to the homicidal stares they were receiving from all around. Instead, in single file, they hopped onto the tray ledge, and began inspecting the meals provided. To the average observer, each tray consisted of grey globs, green gravy, and some sort of smelly socks in hollinday. To the admirably vast pallet of the Legged Piranha, this was paradise.
"I'll 'ave all o' tha' in me belly!" the first Piranha squeaked to the lunch lady.
The first Piranha looked up expectantly, and nearly fell over. The world around him faded into a mist, as his eyes zoomed in on the lunch lady. A chorus of Tchaikovsky's Serenade for Strings in C major began to ring through the air. 
Suddenly Tony got in the way and put out the grease fire causing all the smoke, and swiftly told the show choir to stop singing. 
"Listen lady, th' warden says ter give us wot we needs, an' food is about it."
With a shrug, the lunch lady began scooping the green gravy with a ladle.
"Hold it," interrupted a voice. The warden himself stormed in, and confronted the horde of fish. "What's the meaning of this? We only just brought order to this cafeteria, and you should be with Freddio. He's outside investigating the situation by himself!"
"We's hungry!" squeaked a Piranha.
"Yeah!" squeaked the rest.
"What's th' big stink?" demanded Tony.
"Sorry..." said the two Piranha who fell into the prison cell earlier.
"It's true, we were told to assist your search for the missing prisoner, but... Time is of the essence!" protested the warden.
"But, it's dinner time!" yelled one of the fish. 
"We do appreciate a good meal 'er two. Hard t' uh..." Tony was the smartest of the Legged Piranhas, but only because he had lived through more. It took a lot of effort to think of a lie. Or, for that matter, why he was in a situation that needed lying to begin with. "It uh... 'elps us think, y'might say."
Beaten, though nonetheless straining against official protocol, the warden submitted. "Very well, feed them up, Delorus. Please, hurry! Commander Fart could be out of the country by now. We need to know where he went and bring him back!"
None of the Legged Piranha were listening at this point. They had formed a line again, taking turns to open their giant mouths. One at a time, Delorus poured guck, or whatever it was, into each Piranha. The line seemed endless, and because of the amount of the fish there was no telling who had already been served. Apparently, the fish thought it was alright to go for fifths and sixths. They fell in line directly after swallowing a full meal.
All the while, the prisoners leered at this progression. 
"Warden! How come these fish are eating all our rations?" demanded the leader of the Cut Yourself Gang on Table 8.
"That was supposed to be our meat!" called the leader of the Laundry Room Pillow Talk Gang on Table 3. 
"Where's our cut?" demanded the leader of the Lawyer Gang on Table 1. He sat alone.
"I will have silence in my cafeteria!" yelled the warden, bristling his moustache. "Now, it does seem that these fine investigators have devoured this weeks rations in under five minutes, however, that will not affect you. As we speak, Delorus is boiling some old socks."
"In the special sauce?" asked the leader of the Cut Yourself Gang.
"Yes, nothing but the best for you savage criminals."
"Delightful," the gang leader said to his Cut Yourself brethren.
"Alright. We cool now? Y'all ready to chill out?" the warden eyeballed the crowd of criminals. "Good. Fish? Come with me. I believe Freddio must have found something by now."

"No human being, however great, or powerful, was ever so free as a fish."
-John Ruskin

Outside the so-called impenetrable walls of the prison, Freddio greeted the warden and his guests. It seemed the stink of the force field wall, was so terrible that it stayed with Commander Fart long enough to melt the sand below, and leave a foot print. All this was very interesting, as it apparently qualified the theory that Commander Fart stank himself free, but it left no further clues as to where he'd go. Naturally, the Legged Piranha were bored stiff at this point. Most of them had fallen asleep in a pile, while only Tony and two others bothered looking around. The warden and Freddio respectfully left them alone on the assumption they were doing their job.
"Any food behind tha' cactus?" asked the first Piranha.
"Nah, nothin'," Tony reported.
"Wait, this cactus is edible, innit?" asked the second Piranha.
Tony walked around and slapped the second Piranha in the mouth, with his fin. "Shut yer maw. Tha's a plant!"
"Right, sorry. Jus' so 'ungry!" cried the fish.
"We should go back to th' Lunch lady," said the first fish.
"Grim, wot're ye on 'bout? Ye've been yammerin' 'bout th' Lunchlady since we left," Tony wondered interestedly.
Grim looked into the sky, his glowing orange eyes unblinking. Not to say fish can blink, Grim was pointedly not blinking now. If he could have, he wouldn't. Up above, Delorus's boil-poached face was in the clouds. "She's beautiful," Grim squeaked weakly.
"Wot tha' big ol' 'uman? Th' one with th' big nose, perched lips, an' lots'a eyeliner?" Tony verified, as if there could have been a doubt.
"Yeah..." sighed Grim.
"Th' one with th' ratty grey hair, an' hairy moll on 'er chin?" asked the second fish.
"Stay outta this, Killy." Tony looked about him. "Not sure if yer wrong, Grim. Th' cafeteria seems like a good start. It's been 'bout ten minutes since we last 'ad a bite."
Killy and Grim nodded to this plan, and followed Tony back to the pile of sleeping fish. 
"Did'ja see th' way she wears a fishin' net... On 'er 'ead?" asked Grim dreamily. "She's the catch o' th' day!"
"Yes, yes." Tony kicked the pile of sleeping fish. "Come on, y'cods. Let's go grab a bite ter eat."
The word 'eat' stirred the sleeping horde in an instant. Before the warden and Freddio knew what they were up to, Tony had led his Piranha horde through the stinky wall of Commander Fart's cell.
It was like passing through a warm, wet blanket. One that stank so bad it was difficult to determine how disgusting it really was.
On the other side, Tony rallied his horde. "Alright. Y'may stink ter deep ocean, but y'still got yer teeth. No offence, Hardly."
A nearby Legged Piranha with hardly any teeth shrugged. "It'sh no shcalesh off my shide," Hardly said.
"Good, good. Now, let's go get some chow!" Tony cheered, and led the charge toward the cafeteria. Unfortunately, without the guiding Freddio or warden, the Legged Piranha were up a creek without directions. Before long, they arrived -- by crashing through many locked doors, and shouting, "Ah hah! Found it--nope, never mind!" -- at the maximum security quarantine. 
Each cell the horde passed was made of different types of barriers. For instance, there was an octopus in an electric enclosure. A floating brain in a self-contained dust cloud. And even a giant, menacing turtle behind ten inch glass.
"Piranhas..." said a bemused, yet shocked voice. 
At once, the Legged Piranhas halted. As a fish, it is instinct that you memorize the voice of a shark. The encounters with this turtle in the past, were undeniably dangerous. Even if the majority of the danger had been directed at their Captain, the Legged Piranha saw this as an attack on their own. What's more, a Legged Piranha never forgets something they couldn't eat.
"Well, well, well," said the menacing turtle. "The Guardians of the Devil Boy..."
"Who's tha?" asked Killy."
"Innat, He Who Could Not Be Bitten?" asked another Piranha.
Tony stared hard into the face of the turtle. There was very little the Legged Piranha understood most of the time, but Tony was old enough to understand what nemesis are. "Aye, this is Geyser, the Unchewable."
"Where is that Tunic Freak anyhow?" wondered the deep, cavernous voice of Geyser. "Ah, that's right... he's here, in this prison."
"What's all tha? Th' Cap'n is on a mission. Quit yer dreamin'!" Tony roared. 
"Do you doubt me? What's the old Pintoot saying? 'If the sugarcane is too far away to lick, bring the sugarcane to you.' Yes, while Nexus Zephyr continued to thwart my schemes, I grew tired of being the hunted. Now, the Devil Boy is here in my web. Like he is the fly to my spider."
"Wot's 'e on 'bout?" asked Killy.
"I shuggesht we chew 'im up an' shpit him out," Hardly piped in.
"Y'dried up cods, nay of us can chew Geyser. Let's just mosey on, an' find th' lunch lady," Tony suggested.
"Fools! Imbeciles! Unevolved crustations! Dare you defy me? Geyser, the Turtle King! Prince of Murky Water!"
"Aye, all them," nodded Tony as the horde began to lose interest and wandered off.

Further along the corridors, and through a few more impenetrable doors, the Legged Piranha met a dead end. They found a narrow hallway with a solitary, ancient-looking doorway. 
"This ain' right," scowled Grim. "Delorus isn't 'ere! Where'd y'lead us, Tony?"
"Shush up. D'ye hear that?" Tony asked, straining his lateral lines to listen.
"That sound like a kitten muttering to itself?" asked Killy.
"Yeah."
"Sorta like a rockin' chair going back an' forth?"
"Yeah," said Tony, straining his old lateral lines.
"That sound of almost a nursery rhyme bein' hummed between mutterin'?"
"Yeah! All a' tha'! D'ye hear it?" Tony demanded.
"Nay, can't 'ear a thing."
"Bloody good guesses then," Tony observed, and wandered off towards the ancient metal door. The elderly fish surveyed the door a moment before leaping at it. Tumbling into the dark beyond, Tony's glowing orange eyes dimly illuminated the chamber. 
Somewhere, in the corner, he could barely make out a figure rocking back and forth. As he approached, Tony saw it was a child in a striped prison pajayma. The child was singing 'Hush, Little Baby,' under his breath. To most, this would be terrifying. However, Piranha have no place in their vocabulary for 'fear'. Also, Tony instantly recognized this individual.
"Cap'n?" he asked.
At once the child stopped rocking and slowly began to turn, as if on a spinning pottery wheel. Tony checked below, and the child was indeed on one.
"Hush, little baby, don't say a word, Mama's gonna buy you a mockingbird," sang the child.
Advancing further, and spotting the boy's pointed elf ears, Tony confirmed. Nexus Zephyr, Captain of the Flying Saucer, Toy Elf, and occasional Savior of Christmas.
"Cap'n it is you. Why're you tuckin' y'self away in 'ere for?" the elderly fish wondered. "Y'know, Mr. Fate sent us 'ere fer somethin'? Been a weird day. Nothin' a good meal'll fix. Come on, Cap'n."
Tentatively, Nexus allowed himself to be led into the narrow corridor. On a few occasions he paused to hiss at the light, as if it burned him. 
"Cap'n!" the horde of Legged Piranha cheered.
"Look wot I found!" Tony said proudly.
"Tha' ain' Delorus," Grim scoffed.
"Scoff again, and I'll clot yer ears!" Tony growled.
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah!"
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah!"
"Them's fightin' words," Tony pointed out, and leaped at the horde of Piranha. For a while, they fought each other while Nexus Zephyr leaned against the wall, his eyes staring miles away. When the fish had finished, there was one less wall. This new hole led back to the former cell of Commander Fart. Possibly a convenient plot point, but such ideas are beyond fish.
"Oi, this prison is makin' me 'ungry," admitted Sloppy Tom, his drool forming a pool below.
"Let's go get pizza!" said Killy.
"Pizza!" they all cheered together. 
After picking up Nexus Zephyr and carrying him on their backs, the fish strolled out through the stink wall, and off to the Flying Saucer awaiting them outside.

A great lie is like a great fish on dry land; it may fret and fling and make a frightful bother, but it cannot hurt you. You have only to keep still, and it will die of itself. 
George Crabbe 

As the Flying Saucer jettisoned out of orbit, another UFO spacecraft came in for a landing. This one was tall and cylindrical in shape. With a nub on top making the ship look like a giant AA Battery. 
Upon landing, the hatch opened to reveal Mr. Fate. Instead of his usual annoyed expression, his face now appeared to irritated. Before long, Fate had proceeded to the Joint's front door, where Warden Nixegg bumped into him. The large man's moustache bristled in surprise.
"What a pleasan--" the warden began to say.
"--What's the meaning of Nexus Zephyr's incarceration?" Fate cut in.
"Who?" the warden asked politely.
"Nexus Zephyr. One of my agents," Fate explained slowly. "Why is he in your prison?"
"Anyone sent here was tried and prosecuted," the warden barked, puffing out his chest as if insulted.
Fate stared at Warden Nixegg. "Would you like to know how and when you die?"
This shut the warden up. A sliver of panic slipped across the big man's face.
Leaning forward, Fate whispered, "It's going to be very painful."
"Nexus Zephyr! Oh, yes, Prisoner 7un1Cfr34k! That's right, I recall him. Recently added to our walls, by Probe mandate. Nothing to say against it. The Devil Boy had caused a riot in the cafeteria about an hour ago. We had to put him in solitary confinement."
Fate's staring eyes were unflinching. "Show me."

Don't tell fish stories where the people know you; but particularly, don't tell them where they know the fish. 
Mark Twain 

♪ Welcome back, Captain Zephyr, the sing-song voice of the Flying Saucer's computer greeted.
"And if that mockingbird don't sing, Mama's gonna buy you a diamond ring," Nexus Zephyr muttered.
♪ That does not compute, sir.
"Give th' Cap'n a break, it's been a long day," Tony explained. "Ship take us 'ome. It's pizza time."
"Pizza!" echoed the mob of Legged Piranha.
♪ Shall I inform Papa Tops of your impending arrival?
"Aye, sure thing." Tony hopped into the captain's chair and readied himself. Video-phone calls unnerved him to the gills. 
"And if that diamond ring turns brass, Mama's gonna buy you a looking glass," Nexus sang to himself, while curling into a little ball.
"Will one a' y'cods clop 'im in th' ear?" Tony yelled.
Suddenly, the ship's main view screen changed from starry space to the interior of an old pizzeria. A fat alien with five purple arms wandered on screen and visibly brightened up.
"Ah, mine favouriterite of customersers!" said the alien.
"Tha's..." Tony glared around at the computer panels and at the view screen. How his pizzeria owner appeared in this ship was baffling to his fish brain. "Tha's right. Got's an' order for pizza, Papa Tops."
"The usualual?" Tops asked innocently.
"Aye, maybe an extra one for Grim. He's been pinin' since we left the Joint."
"An' can 'e add some green gravy?" asked Grim. "Delorus used ter feed me it."
"And if that looking glass gets broke, Mama's gonna buy you a billy goat," Nex continued.
Poppa Tops trained a comfortable smile, and asked, "Is that the entireire orderer?"
"Aye, aye," Tony said.
When the pizzeria returned to a boring star field, Tony hopped out of the Captain's chair and proceeded to give the Captain's seat a good kick. "Come on, Cap'n. 'Nuff clown fishin' around."

If you want to catch more fish, use more hooks. 
George Allen, Sr. 

Solitary confinement is a cold, dark place. One that drives a sane man mad, and a brave man cowering. Towering now, like a bear over a salmon river, Warden Eggnix watched as Fate inspected the destroyed solitary chamber. The door was thick and impossibly it had been caved in. There was very little light to be of help, so Fate produced a pen-sized flashlight from his suit. Markings in the door indicated it had crushed in on itself after a solitary blow. The dusty floor proved more useful, as Fate discovered tiny human footprints going from the doorway to the far corner, only to return with bigger footprints. Fate entered the chamber carefully, avoiding any and all evidence.
In the back, he found a small pottery wheel. There seemed nothing out of the ordinary about it, except for the fact that it was here. Experimentally, he gave it a little nudge. A short buzzing shocked his brain.
"Warden?" Fate asked without looking around. "Pray tell, what is this?"
"Ah, we call it Lyrical Persuasion," Warden Eggnix explained proudly. "See, the rowdy buggers we toss in here have so little to do in this room that the gravitate towards it. Usually just sit by and spin it with a finger. The wheel produces a sensational shock to the brain. It imprints lyrics to lullabies over speech memory, so that for a day or so, the bastards are as useful as a zombie. It straightens up the inmates right fast, and keeps them in order. The threat of Seg is fierce here at the Joint."
"I see." Fate quickly evacuated the chamber. Or at least tried to. The warden was framing the door with his massive body.
"Wouldn't you like to see our Super Seg?" the warden asked, grinning.
"I dare say, I should be after the Piranhas. If Nexus indeed escaped, then there's no time to lose," Fate explained quickly.
"Oh, pish posh, Nexus Zephyr... Leave the Devil Boy to his fun."
"Devil Boy... That's the second time you've used that name."
"Come along, Mr. Fate... Let's go and see Super Seg." Warden Eggnix placed a meaty hand on Fate's shoulder. "I insist."

Is this chicken, what I have, or is this fish? I know it's tuna, but it says 'Chicken of the Sea.' 
Jessica Simpson 

Gathered in Nexus Zephyr's loft on the planet Martin, each of the Legged Piranha was gobbling the fifty pizzas sent by Papa Tops. Fifty-one, rather. Yet the extra pizza remained untouched. Grim apparently had lost his appetite. The mere thought of a lost appetite was such an elephant in the room, that the horde decided to give Grim a wide birth. Occasionally, mid-gobbling, a fish would peer above the crowd at their forlorn brother. More than occasionally, mid-gobbling, a fish would peer at their forlorn brother's two pizzas. 
"Come on, Grim. Yer pizzas are goin' cold!" Tony finally said. At once, the horde of Piranha gasped in unison. 
"Cold Pizza?" one of them squeaked.
"Blasphemy," another scowled.
"What's it tastes like?" asked Sloppy Tom.
"Alright, alright. Settle down, y'cods! Grim's wot my old school would call, Bassful. He'll get ter eatin' soon 'nuff," Tony explained.
"I ain' 'ungry." Grim sat moodily down, and stared at the ceiling.
“Can I eat 'is food?” asked a nearby Piranha.
“Go ahead,” Grim pouted. “It ain' th' same without Delorus.”
“Delorus, Delorus,” Tony sighed. “Will y'forget tha' woman?”
Standing in a huff, Grim grunted, “Y'don't unnerstan' love!” With that, Grim launched himself through the wall of Nexus Zephyr's loft and likely fell twenty stories.
Tony simply shook his head. “Youth... What can y'do? Killy, Sloppy Tom, we may as well go after 'im.”
“Wot 'bout 'is pizza? 's gettin' cold!” Killy protested.
“Shimply forget 'bout it! You jusht leave tha' pisha wish ush,” Hardly cooed.
“There y'ave it,” Tony said, leading the way to the new hole in the wall.
“Arr, scaly shame t' waste it,” Killy was muttering, as he followed the leader.
“There's a hole inna wall,” observed Sloppy Tom, as he continued to drool everywhere.
“Right y'are.” Tony hopped briskly out and fell twenty stories.
At the bottom of the building, there was a public swimming pool which had been recently evacuated. For some, the Legged Piranhas were well known by now. Though, no one really accepted such vile-looking monstrosities in the city of Encore. Martian children huddled near their parents, and parents huddled near their children likewise. Such was the fear Piranhas gave these aliens.
When Tony, Killy and Sloppy Tom plopped into the pool, shrieks of terror flooded from the poolside. Unthinking of this reaction, Tony popped out of the deep end and shook dry. The glowing orange of his eyes reflected in little wet foot prints leading away. Tony, soon followed by the others, continued in this new direction. The aliens gave them a wide birth by running away.
“'E's 'round 'ere somewhere.” Tony declared. “Th' city ain' tha' big!”
“Only a whole lot 'a folk,” Killy agreed. “Where would 'e go anyway?”
“Maybe Grim went t' see th' lunch lady fer more grub,” Sloppy Tom said stupidly.
Tony turned around. “Tha's 'bout th' smartest thing y'ever said, Sloppy Tom.”
“Sorry,” Sloppy Tom squeaked, crestfallen.
“No it ain'! 'Ow'd 'e get t' tha' castle place or wot?” Killy pointed out. “Th' Wizard only gave us feets, not wings.”
“Good point,” Tony agreed. “Fish ain' flyin' critters.”
Collectively, the three fish thought long and hard. Tapping their toes. Drumming their fins on their sides. Looking at the sky. Looking at the ground. Looking at each other. Humming incoherently. Opening and closing their mouths as if to make a point. And finally coming to a conclusion, only to forget it.
“This's pointless,” Killy moaned. “We ain' gonna find Grim!”
“Nay, maybe yer right.” Tony began pacing. “Wot could find 'im, though?”
“Cap'n?” Sloppy Tom wondered, drooling a wide pool.
“Cap'n... Cap'n ain' his self,” Tony said. “Nay, it's up ter us.”
“I'm 'ungry,” complained Killy.
“Aye, me too,” Tony agreed. “Grim's out there! Imagine 'ow 'ungry 'e is!”
“Aye... 'e didn' eat any pizza,” Killy admitted.
Suddenly, a tea cup fell from the sky. It landed and shattered nearby Sloppy Tom. A large porcelain shard wedged in Sloppy Tom's head, unbeknownst to him. Up above, Tony could see a few innocent-looking glowing orange eyes peering through the hole in Nexus' wall.
“Bloody cods...” Tony grumbled.
“Tea cups go on saucers,” Sloppy Tom said simply.
“Saucers, aye.” Tony nodded slowly. “Aye, saucers! Flyin' Saucers!”
“Wot, we onna mission again?” Killy groaned. “I'm still 'ungry! We ain' goin' onna mission 'afore eatin', right?”
“Nay, y'daft cod! Th' Flyin' Saucer! Tha's where Grim'd be!” Tony explained.
“Did Grim go somewhere?” Killy asked, having forgotten why they were in the street by now.
“Come on...” Tony sighed, leading the way towards the magnet train station.

The opposite for courage is not cowardice, it is conformity. Even a dead fish can go with the flow.
Jim Hightower

The distance between the Encore Spaceport and Encore City is about 400 kilometres. Connecting the services is a massive train that rides along a magnetic track. Propelled at 38624.2560 kilometres per hour, the service takes about 1 hour in length. Each train managed this speed by assuring the tracks be kept within invisible force fields, so that the local flying pigs didn't get in the way. Artificial gravity inside each train car simulated normal velocity, keeping passengers at ease. There were 4 trains that travelled this route, to reduce wait times. Under the Martin Law, this public service (as with all public services) was entirely free and supported by the Galactic Government.
One might ask why keep the Spaceport so desperately far from the hub city. That person would likely be unaware of the many toxins being expelled by the various spacecraft in order to defy gravity. That person should also stop question things.
By the time Tony, Killy and Sloppy Tom arrived, the second train had left. It would be 15 minutes until the next train arrived. According to Tony, this was not enough time.
“If my memory serves me right,” Tony explained. “Th' Flyin' Saucer can jump into space faster 'n y'cods can blink.”
“We can't blink,” Killy huffed.
“Aye, wotever.” Tony glanced around and spotted a couple of flying pigs grazing in the field near the train platform. “Oi, wot y'say t' catchin' tha' train?”
One of the flying pigs glanced up and oinked. It was too late.

The torrent of wind inside the train tube was surreal. It should be noted that while a train on Track A jettisoned towards the Spaceport, another train from another city jettisoned towards Encore City. Thus, air inside the force field was constantly pushing. While, this took some adjusting to, a flying pig with three Legged Piranhas on its back somehow managed to ride this current.
“Thanks fer lettin' me eat tha' other pig,” Killy yelled.
“Wot?” Tony asked.
“This wind is too loud to talk over,” Sloppy Tom observed.
“Wot?” Tony and Killy asked.
“Wot?” Sloppy Tom wondered.
Tony glared ahead, and gave their flying pig a little bite as incentive to speed up. Not that the pig could do anything. By conventional standards, flying pigs seldom flew faster than a Martian walks! This insane speed was making its eyes water, or that could be from being an emotion wreck after watching his best friend eaten alive.
Either way, the flying pig was scared for its life.
“Oink,” it weakly managed to say.
“Wot it say?” Killy asked.
“Th' trains' comin' up pretty fast!” Sloppy Tom mentioned.
“Wot now?” Killy yelled.
“Look ahead, y'cod!” Tony cursed.
“Wot?”
Miraculously, the train travelling at 38624.2560 kilometres per hour was dead ahead. They were catching up. Wind ripping through the flying pigs' small, white feathered wings. It became soon apparent, that a landing option would be needed. No convenient platforms to land on, this train was as slick and sturdy as they came. By any guess, Tony believed the windows were the best bet. A door was nowhere to be found, but there was indeed a window wrapping around the sides of the car. It was anyone's guess how thick that glass was, not that a fish of very little brains would guess such nonsense.

Little Wessel, a Martian girl of nine years old, was making a game of peeking over her chair to see another passenger. Even when her father told her to behave, Wessel continued. Behind her sat a silly little creature. It looked like a dried pine cone with a big mouth full of sharp little teeth pointing in random directions. It had bony fins on the side, back and top, too! What's more were the little human feet that half hung over the edge of the seat. Despite her many attempts, Wessel failed to gain the creature's attention. It had such wonderful glowing orange eyes too. She tried to waggle her businessman doll at the creature in a friendly way. Still nothing.
Suddenly, Wessel lost interest, as she spotted a flying pig in the back window.
“Daddy, daddy! Look at that! A flying piggy!”
“Yes dear, please sit down and study your algebra.”
“Daddy, look, it's behind the train!” Wessel giggled.
With a little exhaustion, Wessel's father took his pipe out of his mouth and turned around for a look-see. At once, the Martian dropped his pipe.
There were three of those blasted Legged Piranha on that pig. Wessel's father worked at the Office of Foreign Affairs. Something like 'Legged Piranha being employed at the Unfortunate Fatal Occurrence Organization' was a fact he was dreadfully aware of.
“Dear gods, what are those Piranha up to?” he asked.
From the seat behind Wessel's father, someone said in a very squeaky voice, “Wot now?”
Suddenly, a hitherto unseen (to him) Legged Piranha popped into view of Wessel's father. It stood on the back of it's chair. “Bloody cods!” the Legged Piranha cursed.
“Bloody cods!” Wessel imitated. “Hehe, Daddy, can we have one?”
“No, darling. Come along, let's get out of here...”
It was too late. The back window shattered, collapsing in on itself. For a moment, the simulated gravity became nullified. Long enough for three unfortunate Martians to get sucked out into the train tunnel. When normality came back to the train car, Tony's flying pig landed with a disgruntled oink on the floor.
“Oi, Sloppy Tom's dead!” Killy yelled. “Tony, y'killed Sloppy Tom!”
“It's you wot's supposed to 'ave jumped through th' window, y'cod!” Tony yelled back.
“Nay, I says it was impossible! Then y' told 'im ter jump!” Killy shouted hotly. “Y'killed 'im y' did!”
Bleakly, Tony glanced around for something to save Sloppy Tom. Failing finding anything, he simply gave Sloppy Tom a swift kick. “'E ain' dead! 'E's jus' sleepin'!”
“Sleepin'? 'is eyeballs came out!” Killy shouted, kicking a couple glowing eyeballs towards Tony.
“E's jus' gettin' some shut eye!”
“We can' shut our eyes!” Killy explained hotly.
“Ya, so's 'e 'ad to get 'em out!” Tony explained desperately.
“Wot're y'doin' 'ere?” Grim growled, hopping to the floor from his seat.
“Came t'stop y'from makin' a bass o' yerself,” Tony growled, glad for the change of subject.
“Bass o' meself?” Grim echoed. “Are y'daft? I'm goin' t' me love. Y'know wot love is? Y'know it?”
Wessel, held firmly back from the situation by her father, piped in. “Daddy, why's that fishy not awake?”
Between Killy, the frightened flying pig, and Tony, lay the corpse of Sloppy Tom. No longer laying in a pool of his own drool. The still lifelessness was astonishing to Wessel. The word 'death' meant nothing to her. Yet, there it was.
“It's 'cause o' this cod!” Killy shouted. “Jus' sent 'im t' 'is death!”
“Will y'lay off it?” This whole business was becoming more obnoxious than worrisome anymore. Tony walked over and slapped Killy. “Pull yerself t'gether, lad! This ain' yer first time seein' death! Ye ate that lil' piggy not five minutes ago! Y'ever wonder why I came t'yer school?”
“Nay, Tony, nay I didn',” Killy said, wishing he could squint distrustfully.
“My school ate one 'nother. All o' 'em.” Tony stared at Killy, until the grumbly fish turned away.
“Y'gonna eat us too?” Killy scoffed.
“I outta clot ye,” Tony growled, but wandered away, kicking Sloppy Tom's corpse as he passed.
Sloppy Tom grunted.
Everyone turned to look, even the pig and Wessel's father.
“Wot y'do tha' fer?” Sloppy Tom asked in a slower than usual voice.
“Sloppy Tom?” Killy gasped. “Yer dead!”
Cumbersomely, Sloppy Tom stood up, and wobbly looked around. “Where ye go? Why's it so dark?”
Fumbling with the fact they only had feet, Tony and Killy attempted to put Sloppy Tom's eyes back in place.
“Tha' better, lad?” Tony asked.
“Much better, yeah,” Sloppy Tom agreed. Then, one of his eyes popped out and rolled across the floor.
Breaking free from her father's desperate grip, Wessel gingerly picked up the eyeball and put it back in Sloppy Tom's empty socket.
“Here, you can wear my businessman doll's glasses,” the little Martian girl offered. Carefully, she pulled the fake glassless frames from her doll and tucked them onto Sloppy Tom's crusty face. The ear hooks seemed to fit nicely behind a couple craggy scales on either side of his head. The empty frames also sat perfectly on both eyes.
“My word,” gasped Sloppy Tom. “I do believe these spectacles fit with wonderous results. Many thanks to you, young lass.”
While returning to her seat, Wessel giggled giddily. Meanwhile, the other fish circled Sloppy Tom, watchfully.
“Y'feelin' alright there, Sloppy Tom?” Tony wondered first.
“Aye, aye, my elderly fellow. Quite so,” explained Sloppy Tom. “Now, if memory serves correctly, the circumstance regarding Grim yet remains unsolved.”
Standing edgily away from the situation, Grim protested at once.
“Save yer breath, th' lot o' ye!”
“Contrary to your assumptions,” Sloppy Tom announced, stepping casually forward. “It is my proposal that our party accompanies you until such a time that you become reunited with your heart's content.”
After due consideration, Tony wandered over to Sloppy Tom and plucked the shard of tea cup from his head.
At once, Sloppy Tom sat down and said, “We're inna train!”
Just as carefully, Tony slid the tea cup shard back into the wound.
“As you may imagine, this plan is both out of consideration for Grim's feelings, as well as his safe being should he encounter some wrongdoings,” Sloppy Tom continued.
One mental note later, Tony conceded to this plan. “Assuming' I understood 'alf any o' tha'... Yer right, Sloppy Tom.”
“Aye...” Killy added absent-absentmindedly. All this was a bit too much to take in.

If you want to be a different fish, jump out of school. 
Don Van Vliet 

♪ What shall our heading be? the Flying Saucer's computer asked.
“T' Delorus!” Grim ordered.
♪ Searching... Searching... Search request is too vague.
“T' th' lunch lady this cod is in love with,” Tony specified.
♪ Please specify the location of Delorus.
“If you would please allow me,” Sloppy Tom asserted, taking the Captain's chair as his own. “Destination: Planet Wahoo, Sandcastle Beach Island, the Joint maximum security prison, cafeteria.”
♪ Very well!
“Warp 8. Engage,” Sloppy Tom commanded, sitting back in the chair wisely.
“Oh, very professional, wot?” Grim muttered.
“Can we eat th' pig now?” Killy wondered.
“Oink?” asked the flying pig nervously.
Without bothering to answer, Tony hopped into one of the other chairs and fell asleep. It had been far too exciting so far for his little heart. Just a little nap would do him some good, Tony thought.

When Tony woke up, he was plastered to the ship's front view-screen.
♪ We have arrived at the destination, Mr. Tony.
“Aye,” Tony wheezed.
“Excellent,” Sloppy Tom observed. “These seat belts are most fascinating. Despite the speed which catapulted our elder fish forward, these straps hold us in place. Thus, saving our scales from harm.”
“Aye, fancy tha'!” Killy agreed.
“Y'really are smart one, Sloppy Tom,” Grim assessed.
“As the elder fish has clearly demonstrated, failing to strap oneself into their seat comes with catastrophic outcomes. Especially when crashing into buildings. It would be prudent to memories this advice, though your limited brain capacity may cause this improbable,” Sloppy Tom explained.
“Aye,” Killy simply agreed, having no idea what Sloppy Tom had said.
“Aye! Th' cafeteria! It's 'ere, innit?” Grim wondered, scrambling free of his bindings. “My beloved! Lunch Lady, Delorus!”
Rolling to the floor, Tony shook off the crash landing and followed Grim to the Flying Saucer's exit. “Grim, careful...”
“Wot now?” demanded the emotional fish.
“Yer... leaving' th' school,” Tony explained. “Could be dangerous waters outside. Jus'... Be careful.”
The Saucer door opened slowly, and Grim watched it dully. The facts of his flight to Delorus hadn't come to mind before. Yet, it was for her... That wonderful woman who fed him, and wore a fishnet.
“She wears th' fishnet t' me heart,” Grim squeaked.
“Aye, lad. Off y'go,” Tony nodded.
After trying to think of a proper goodbye word, Grim decided to just hop out.
“Fascinating,” Sloppy Tom said from the Captain's chair. “Computer, is this so?”
“Wot's all this?” Tony hopped back into the chair he had been so rudely interrupted from.
“It would appear the one that we call, Mr. Fate has come to take up residence in this prison,” Sloppy Tom explained. “Curious!”
“Wot? That can' be right,” Tony said.
Plopping down to the floor, Killy looked up at the two brainy fish. “Well, forget all tha'. What's really important, is, can we eat this pig yet?”
“Will y' lay off th' pig? Y'can eat the pig later! It's a long way 'ome, y'cod,” Tony shouted.
“Phooey,” Killy grunted.
While Tony and Sloppy Tom buggered around on the computer, Killy began circling his flying pig prey. Something about saving food for later, bothered him at an elemental level. Yet, when the elder says no, that's all there is to it.
“Y'lucky oinker,” Killy squeaked.
“Oink?” the pig asked.
“Ye gonna be in me belly 'fore long,” Killy explained.
Outside the door of the Flying Saucer, there could be heard a great commotion. A lot of yelling voices, and the sounds of tables being destroyed. It was terrifying, yet while little orange eyes and a mouth like two saws wedged together were hovering around, there was no choice. The pig leaped out the door.
“Oi!” Killy yelled, astonished.
“Oi, indeed.” Sloppy Tom joined Killy by the door. “Evidently, our employer has become unlawfully incarcerated here in this prison.”
“Then, let's go get 'im,” Tony suggested, stretching his legs beside the other two. “Can't be too far.”
“Not in the least,” Sloppy Tom explained. “Three corridors and one door later, our employer should be in our reach.”
Hearing enough, Killy jumped out after his flying dinner.

The cafeteria was quite the zoo. With inmates being pummelled by Grim, and others chasing a flying pig, and others singing show choir, Tony and the other two were glad to be out of there. It seemed someone had replaced the doors formerly knocked in by the Legged Piranha horde. This would normally cause no problems, however, the two Piranha were simply not enough force to knock in these sturdy doors. It was respectfully agreed that Sloppy Tom be omitted from brute force duties. If his eyes popped out now, there's no telling what'd happen next.
“Blast it, this door is nay movin',” Killy complained after another full body check.
“Very well, one moment gentle fish,” Sloppy Tom announced, before trotting off.
“See wot became o' this expedition,” Killy grunted, clearly annoyed. “Y'led us on a wild goose chase fer nothin'.”
“Y'cod, Fate's 'ere,” Tony explained.
“So? Let 'im be where 'e likes. Why'd ye 'ave to bring me?”
“Good Reef! Y'been sour a long while, Killy. Wot's really on yer mind?” Tony shouted.
“Maybe I'm tired o' swimmin' after ye!” Killy barked in return.
“Grim left, cod! Why not leave too? Th' school ain' need ya!” Tony squeaked angrily.
“Nay? Well, maybe I ain' need th' school!” Killy began stamping his feet.
“Good, then git! I'll be thankful t'see yer tailfin gone!”
“Well! Well! Well, fine then! Go swim in murky water, y' ancient flotsam!” Killy shouted before running off down a hallway.
“Bloody cod.” Tony spat.
Just then, Sloppy Tom returned with a bottle of ketchup between his teeth.
“Wot's tha?” Tony growled, still hot from the argument.
After setting his ketchup to one side, Sloppy Tom explained, “Why my good fellow, the computer is quite too far from reach. So, from my vast array of memory skills, I shall make a map to follow.”
“With ketchup?”
“For now, it's paint,” Sloppy Tom explained stiffly.

 All men are equal before fish. 
Herbert Hoover 

To the best of the 'map's ability, there was very little to be done, in all honesty. After a good five minutes of painting, Tony noticed an air vent nearby. After being shown this simple solution, Sloppy Tom retroactively remembered the vent shaft system on top of his map, using mustard. The mustard line to Mr Fate's cell was a straight line.
The cell, though neither fish knew it to be a segregated cell, was about as different from the one they had found Nexus Zephyr in, as could be. Firstly, it was well lit. The walls were holographs of a city park on a sunny day. There were children playing on the playground, folks walking around here and there. In the middle of the cell, Mr. Fate was inside a mobile hamburger shop. There was no customers, no matter what Mr. Fate did, none of the holograms would buy his hamburgers.
When Tony and Sloppy Tom appeared on the service counter of Mr. Fate's shop, he nearly cried. “Customers? Are you here to buy a hamburger? What about a cheeseburger? We also make hotdogs and other fine products. Fries? Shakes? You bet!”
“Nay, no food today, Mr. Fate,” Tony said. “Though, all tha' sounds great. So, is this yer life? Are y'givin' up on wotever ye were doin' before? With th' spaceyships an' wot.”
“Please, elder fish, the manner in which you speak gives me a migraine. Allow me, if you will. Mr. Fate, it appears you have been abducted somehow, and placed into a holding cell made to resemble a hamburger shop in a recreation area. Please, I must insist you vacate this premise immediately.”
Blinking severely against his new known world, Mr. Fate began to hold his temples. “No... the hamburgers...”
Sloppy Tom peered into the hamburger shop, and saw some dead rats on plates. Gently, the smart fish placed a fin on Mr. Fate's elbow. “No, sir. This is all a delusion, fed to you by the holograms, doubtlessly. Now, if you will come this way, the doorways should open presently with the old fish's minor effort.”
After giving Sloppy Tom the hairy eyeball, Tony turned and bounced against the prison door. It swung open at once, and Tony continued on to bounce off Warden Nixegg's chest. At once, the warden plucked Tony out of the air, and held his tail between two fingers.
Defencelessly, Tony dangled there, unable to reach and fight back.
From the burger van, Sloppy Tom and a disillusioned Fate watched as Warden Nixegg stepped into the chamber. After flicking a switch on the wall, the holograms faded leaving pale cement walls in their place.
“It figures,” the warden began to say. “That I'd find you here. It was only a matter of time before you fish figured it out anyhow. So far you've solved all our riddles.”
“Let go!” Tony roared, kicking up a fuss.
“The only question is: If you're not in the cafeteria, and you're not in this room, and you're not in that spaceship crashed into my prison... Then where are the other fish? There was a horde, am I wrong?” Warden Nixegg began to drum his free fingers on his ample belly. “Regardless, you've found Fate. As I assumed you may. It's a pity the prison rules don't allow me to kill any inmates. Toy with their brains, sure, kill though? No. Nonetheless, having foreseen this event, I have made a cell just for you.”
From the burger van, Fate gulped and looked around. Reality was coming back to him.
“Oh gods... I ate a hamburger.”

The one thing that a fish can never find is water; and the one thing that man can never find is God. 
Eric Butterworth 

Tapping on glass, Warden Nixegg gave himself a pleased little chuckle. This new cell was a thing of beauty. The one-way glass simulated the vast empty desert of planet Stoom. Nothing in any direction to be found, except the occasional glimmer of water. It was never water. What's more, the floor of the cell was an omni-directional treadmill fitted with a sand grain texture. Above, he installed the type of high-heat bulb necessary to keep sunstone dragons alive. A full desert in a box!
“You may have found Mr. Fate, but the three of you are stranded forever!” Warden Nixegg began to howl with laughter at his own petty life.

Elsewhere, kicking a pebble down a hallway, Killy found little joy in anything. Even the game of kicking a pebble was stupid. Yet, he continued. By accident, the pebble bounced off a glass cell. Not that it mattered. Suddenly, Killy was without a school. A lone Piranha in the universe.
“Bloody cod, 'e tricked me. Bringin' me 'alfway 'cross th' space 'n stuff. Leavin' me 'ere where no one'd find me,” Killy growled to himself.
“Quite the predicament,” agreed a deep voice from beyond the glass.
It was too dark to make out who was inside, but Killy continued on talking. “It's all 'cause th' dummy Grim's in love with tha' Delorus whossit! We come jettin' 'cross space and wot! An' after we found th' Cap'n an' all!”
“The Cap'n?” asked the voice evenly.
“Aye, Cap'n Zephyr's alright. But, tha's aside th' point! Now them two's out lookin' fer Fate or sommit, an' finally I get th' boot from it all!”
The voice was very quiet.
After a pause, Killy continued. “I wish there was a way t' get back at tha' Tony! Show th' school tha' I'm wot should be leadin' th' school.”
Still quiet. Too quiet. “You still in there?” Killy wondered.
“Yes,” said the voice.
“Well, like I says, if'n there was a way t' get back at Tony! Tha'd be great.”
“Mr. Fate is here, but did not come with you?” asked the voice.
“Aye, true.”
“Then there is another space ship here,” said the voice. “If you use it to return to Encore City, you could prove once and for all that you are the truly fit leader of the Legged Piranhas.”
Undeterred by the abundance of information this voice knew, Killy nodded sagely. “Aye, tha'd be great. Wot'd I 'ave t' do?”
“Think about it, you seem like a smart fish,” said the voice.
“Aye, I is smarts,” Killy agreed.
“What is the one thing what Tony does for the Legged Piranha?”
“Leads us?”
“Does he? Or does he order you around. Tony is your manager, not your friend.”
“Aye, a friend 'e's not!” Killy agreed, getting excited.
“Believe me, when I tell you, this is the way to take control of the Legged Piranhas, and lead them to a bright new future. Imagine: food everywhere! Imagine, never having to question whether you're allowed to eat a man.”
“Y' don't know 'ow much some o' th' lads want tha' freedom again!” Killy exclaimed. “Ever since Tony arrived in our river, 'e's been puttin' new rules on our lives! I remember thinkin' t' meself, 'wots dis fellah doin' tellin' us who ter not eat?' I remembers it like yes'erday!”
“With that spaceship outside, you could have it all for yourself. What is your name?”
“Th' lads calls me Killy, 'cause I'm good at killin'.”
“That is most excellent,” said the voice coolly.
“So wot I 'ave ter do?” Killy asked eagerly.
“For starters, steal the ship. While, from in here, I cannot say for sure, it should be parked out front of the Joint.” The voice sounded thoughtful, in a deep and cavernous sort of way. “Perhaps let the computer know who you are, and where you're going too.”
“Yeah? Yeah? Wot else? Wot I 'as ter do ter get th' lads t' follow me?” Killy asked, bouncing on the spot in his eagerness to understand.
“It's quite simple...”
“Wot? Wot?”
“Kill... Nexus Zephyr.”
There was a silence, as Killy stopped jumping about.
“Wot, th' Cap'n? Jus' sorta... kill 'im?” asked Killy.
“Are you unafraid?”
“Wot, me? Afraid o' nuthin!” Killy announced. “But... Tony said, never t' eat th' Cap'n...”
“Ah, 'Tony said',” repeated the voice.
“Right... Tony said,” Killy growled. “Tony don't make th' rules anymore, does 'e...”
“That's right...” encouraged the voice. “Now, you're a bright lad. You know why Tony said those things?”
“No, 'cause 'e's a softy, unlike us. Ain' got no tough scales. Tha's why.”
“Not entirely... There's laws out there on Martin. If you kill a man, he will find god, and you will find justice. In short, if you kill Nexus Zephyr in Encore City, you will end up in jail... However, if you take him to a remote location and kill him... I imagine no one would know the difference.”
“Aye, tha' makes sense!” Killy agreed. “Do I really 'ave t' kill 'im? It's jus'... 'e's like one o' th' Legged Piranhas in a way.”
“Yes!” the voice shouted, but quickly calmed down again. “Yes. If you do not... show your dominance over a rule set by Tony, then the others will never follow you.”
“Aye... I see,” Killy sighed. “Alright. A remote location it'll be, then.”
“Yes. Perhaps, oh, I don't know... the planet Mímisbrunnr? That's pretty remote,” the voice said amiably.
“Meh-mehs-brewn-ner?” Killy repeated.
“Close enough, I'm sure the computer can find it. Remember: kill Nexus Zephyr on Mímisbrunnr and your school of fish will never waver in following you!” instructed the voice.
“Aye... Kill Nexus Zephyr.

The city needs a car like a fish needs a bicycle. 
Dean Kamen 

“It's hot!” exclaimed Sloppy Tom.
“Thanks for the prediction,” Mr. Fate groaned. “Would you put that teacup thing in his head please?”
“Nay, 'e's better this way,” Tony explained.
The two fish and Martian continued to wander in a general direction Tony had noticed water. The desert they were presently in was so vast and endless in all directions, that this seemed the only logical way.
“We've been walking forever... Why would Warden Eggnix go through all the trouble of capturing us, only to send us to Stoom?” Tony wondered.
“This sand tastes like rubber,” Sloppy Tom noted.
“Wot?” Tony demanded. But, Sloppy Tom was just staring at the ground. Looking down for the first time in a long time, Tony noticed the teacup fragment was still on the ground a few feet away from him. “Tha's weird.”
“Wot—What is weird?” Fate wondered, wiping his brow on a sleeve. “I can barely think straight in this heat. If only we had a bicycle or something.”
“Th' teacup bit... it's on the ground just there,” Tony said.
After stopping to glance down, Fate paused to look around. “How is that possible? We've been walking for half an hour or more!”
“An' I took it outta 'im awhile back,” Tony mentioned.
“Damn! Have we been walking in a circle?” Fate cursed.
“Agh...” Tony growled, reaching for the teacup shard in his mouth. “Thiff betteh be worff it.”
Carefully, the shard was replaced into Sloppy Tom's brain.
“Happy Birthday!” cheered Sloppy Tom joyously.
“Wot now?”
“Ah, perhaps it's no one's birthday. My deepest apologies! Inquirer y, elderly fish: For what reason are we presently stranded within this poorly constructed glass cage?” Sloppy Tom wondered.
“Glass cage? He's delirious, this is Stoom. I recognize this blasted desert anywhere. It's unlike other deserts, in that, it's worse,” Fate explained.
“Quite the contrary, though your particular physiology would prohibit the observation of such incredibly obvious facts,” Sloppy Tom pointed out.
“'Fraid ter break it ter ye, Sloppy Tom... I'm seein' a desert too!” squeaked Tony.
“Rightly so, though, have you used your lateral lines?” asked Sloppy Tom.
Slapping his head with a fin, Tony glanced around the glass room with his lateral lines. “Aye, 'e's right.”
“The pair of you are suffering heat stroke, perhaps if we found some water you'd revive your senses,” Fate muttered.
“Ye, wotever,” Tony said, leaping through the glass. “Come on, Mr.”

As the two fish and Martian made their way towards the cafeteria, they became aware that a siren was going off. Ahead, correction officers were charging down the hall towards them. There were perhaps seven of them. It was enough to stop the three of them in their tracks.
“Wot now?” Tony demanded, feeling somewhat trapped and lost without the protection of his horde of lads.
“Elementary, my dear Tony. Are you aware of the pinball machine?” Sloppy Tom wondered.
“Nay.”
“As you are aware, my depth of thought patterns has evolved exponentially since you inadvertently sent me to my death, back on Martin. This has begun the turning of, sort of wheels... wheels with points on them. Very short, stubby points. The wheels sort of... turn and connect, turning other wheels... Do you follow?”
“You mean cogs?” asked Fate, despite himself.
“Cogs... Yes, cogs will do.”
“Well, get ter th' point, y' coggy cod!” Tony shouted.
“Ah, quite correct.” Sloppy Tom glared down the hallway at the incoming correction officers. “Attack the first on the left by biting off his left leg. This should send him to take down the one on his right and immediately pause the two behind him. Then bounce off the wall behind him. Slit the throat of the second on the left, while reaching for the second on the right's nose. While his head turns in repulse at your action, leap to the further wall, and bounce off it to the final man taking up the rear. Bite his arm until the man falls to the ground, and hit the floor running, as we should be at your heels by then.
For a second, Tony stared at Sloppy Tom, then the incoming jailors. “Righto,” he squeaked.

Dead fish don't swim around in jealous tides. 
Scott Weiland  

Back in the Flying Saucer again, with Fate in tow, Tony and Sloppy Tom were pleased to see Grim had returned. Though, he hadn't come back empty-handed. Seated on the passenger sofa in the lower deck was the lunch lady, Delorus.
The two were sitting side by side, hand in fin.
“Right then,” Fate said, agreeing with himself to forget about this whole mess until they returned to UFO HQ. Slamming the door close button and seating himself in the Captain's chair, Fate addressed the computer now. “S. S. Melody, take me to the front gate of the Joint, to the location of the Hovering Cylinder.”
♪ The Hovering Cylinder is not currently located on Wahoo, said the sing-song voice of the computer.
“What? Where is it?”
♪ Searching... Current location of the Hovering Cylinder is Encore City, Martin.
“Martin?” Fate frowned. What in the name of destiny was going on? Had a prisoner stolen his vessel? The computer should have denied anyone access to the ship to begin with! “Computer... set Destination: Encore City, Martin. Maximum Leap!”
Contrary to the irrelevant ramblings of Sloppy Tom earlier, there was no warp drive on the Flying Saucer. Instead, it used the newly developed Leap Frog Drive to traverse the galaxy. Using the basis behind momentum gained while playing Leap Frog as a child, the engineers of the Leap Frog Drive had over-calculated a propulsion system that sent the space age ahead by leaps and bounds. Literally!
In a moment, the Flying Saucer was in orbit of Martin and propelling through the atmosphere on it's own momentum devices. In minutes, the ship hovered above Encore City. Normally restricted airspace, now counted as a national, possibly universal emergency.
“Computer, where is the Hovering Cylinder?” Fate demanded.
♪ Hovering Cylinder last reported co-ordinates... outside Captain Zephyr's loft in Encore City, Martin.
“Take us there!” Fate shouted.
♪ Report: Captain Zephyr's loft is presently empty.
“Empty?” Tony asked, wandering into the room, now that they had stopped moving around so much. “Wha' 'bout th' lads?”
♪ Report: There are no Legged Piranhas on this planet, present ship excluded.
“Th' lads...” Tony gasped, sitting where he stood.
“Well... Where's the Hovering Cylinder now?” Fate asked, grasping for straws at this point.
♪ Searching... said the computer. Searching...
“Uncharacteristic of the computer to have such difficulty locating the whereabouts of another Unfortunate Fatal Occurrence vehicle,” Sloppy Tom noted, entering the main deck as well.
“Th' lads, Sloppy Tom... All gone...” Tony was lost for words.
♪ The Hovering Cylinder is presently on planet Mímisbrunnr.
It was Fate's turn to sit down. Everything was falling into place.
“We're too late,” Fate said. “My vision...”
“Computer, set Destination: Mímisbrunnr, specifically the location of Hovering Cylinder,” said Sloppy Tom. “Warp 8. Engage.”
♪ As you say. The computer voice faded out.
“Pardon my intrusion,” Sloppy Tom said to Fate. “What was your vision in totality, so we may attempt to alter it?”
Unsure how to explain, Fate simply said it, “There's a burning tree, and you're all in it.”
“Fascinating. Yet, even should the other specimens from our species be in said tree, it should be noted that we three are not!” Sloppy Tom exclaimed. “Let's confer with the others to devise a plan of action, shall we?”
When Tony and Fate reluctantly agreed to follow Sloppy Tom to the lower deck, they found to their displeasure; Delorus and Grim making out. How a fish with teeth for lips, and a human with hair on her lips could 'make out' was beyond comprehension. Fate had to return to the Captain's chair and sit down.
“A human woman?” Sloppy Tom sounded amused. “What an idea!”
“Well, 'ands off! This's me lady now,” Grim snarled. “We's gettin' married an she'll feed me forever!”
Delorus made a delighted squeal and began kissing Grim again.
“If y'would quit shavin' her moustache, an' listen, this's important!” Tony snapped.
“Wot 'bout 'im! Eyein' me lady?”
“That's hardly the case, my lesser companion. It was merely something of profound amusement that you consider this a respectable, or perhaps more importantly, possible union,” Sloppy Tom explained.
“Aye?” Grim asked, not understanding what was said.
“Aye, indeed.”
“Well then, wot's the big stink?”
“Enquiry: Does the carpet match the drapes?” Sloppy Tom suddenly asked.
“Wot?” Grim stood up and bared all his teeth.
At this, Sloppy Tom turned to Tony. “Do they?”
“Wot're ye on 'bout?” Tony sighed.
Shrugging his tiny fins, Sloppy Tom looked back at Grim. “Captain Nexus Zephyr's apartment. Does his carpet match the drapes?”
“Now, ye mention it, I think not,” Grim said thoughtfully. “Green drapes wit' a red carpet, right?”
“Ye, true. Wot's tha' got t' do with anythin'?” Tony asked.
The thoughtful fish began to pace, as conspiracy theories began to wheel about in his mind. The juxtaposition of green and red was only appropriate in certain situations, as the complimentary colours were crash on normal circumstances as a mix in design. Yet, during Christmas and/or XMAS to an extent, the Green/Red combo was highly acceptable and expected. Another point, is that red is the colour of most blood outside the body, and to a fish bent on eating, the colour red was a terrific incentive to brew hostility and hunger at a constant state. When given a choice between red and green, the Legged Piranha always went to red, which explained why so few of them went near the windows of Nexus Zephyr's loft.
At length, Sloppy Tom declared, “Something sinister is at play here. Computer, what is special about Mímisbrunnr?”
♪ Mímisbrunnr is home of the Mímir Well of Knowledge, and home to the Mother of Pōhutukawa trees. Otherwise known as Metrosideros excelsa. On one planet far from here, they are considered to be the Christmas Trees.
“It's true,” said Fate, rejoining the group on the bottom deck. “We are heading not just to some tree that came first. That tree is one of the roots to a much bigger tree, some might say. If whoever stole my ship is going to burn that tree, they could very well destroy the Essense of Christmas Spirit.”

I swim like a fish and I have an amazing kick. 
Gordon Ramsay 

The Flying Saucer came to a soft landing, not far from the Pōhutukawa tree. All in the tree, the Legged Piranha were hanging from nooses. Fate almost doubled over at the site of his prophesy. It was Sloppy Tom who rallied his spirits. Reminding him that it was impossible to properly hang a fish, as they have no neck to speak of. On closer examination, Fate saw that the Legged Piranha were swaying about, their legs wheeling around trying to get free.
“This is terrifying. Although, the tree is not ablaze, so all is well as yet.” Fate gave a brief sigh of relief.
“So, 'ow are we supposed ter get th' lads down?” Tony wondered.
“We could chop 'em down,” Grim suggested.
“Or more elaborately, use the ship's weapon system to slice the ropes with exact precision,” Sloppy Tom added.
“No one's going to take down none of the pretty ornaments,” said a heavy, almost fog-horn-like voice.
The group turned. It had come from Delorus.
“Honey?” Grim sounded astonished, as he ought to.
“The fact you brought me here to witness Geyser's ultimate plan, Grim, shall not be forgotten,” Delorus reached back and pulled the net from her hair. “However, as of now, you must not come between us and the end of the Devil Boy.”
“Th' net! Watch out, fer th' net!” Tony warned.
Yet, Grim was struck by disbelief. “Delorus, you're me love! Why're y' doin' this?”
“A mere drug, fish. It was slipped to you on Warden Eggnix's direction. There is no love here.”
“Y'lyin' cod! This's love! I can feel it in me gills! Felt it on yer 'airy lips!” Grim shouted hysterically.
“Sorry, fish. It's nothing personal. We must all do our part to see the Turtle King's dark desire brought to light.” Delorus advanced quickly with the hairnet held open in her hands.
Suddenly, Grim began to cry. Tears, fell from eyes that had evolved away from the ability to preform such an act. They flowed anyway. Nothing could stop this torrent of sorrow.
“How could ye?” Grim roared.
Everyone began to back away, except for Delorus who continued forward carefully. Ready to pounce.
“How could ye make m'do this? I love ye with me all!” Grim sobbed. In a streak of flowing water, his crusty body flew through the air, landing on Delorus' shoulder. A few well placed bites later, and the woman fell like a plate of yesterday's mystery meat.

When you fish for love, bait with your heart, not your brain. 
Mark Twain

Turning towards the tree filled with struggling Piranha, Grim gave out a guttery roar. Unlike any fish before him, he had been kissed. The power of this love exuded from his scaly body like a beacon. Each of the hanged Legged Piranha stopped buggering about in the tree to peer sidelong down at Grim. Even Tony, to his surprise, had to admire such a fish. There was a fish with gills.
“Sloppy Tom, get 'em down. Climb th' tree if y' 'ave ter! Chomp 'em down. Th' lads an' us're goin' 'ome!” Grim announced.
“Perhaps the most intelligent thing to crawl from your maw in this lifetime,” Sloppy Tom said, while hopping off towards the Pōhutukawa tree.
“Sommit different 'bout y' lad,” Tony said admiringly. “Sommit different...”
“Aye,” agreed Grim.
“Perhaps, this is a point to be made,” Fate observed from afar. “While you decipher that bothersome point in evolution, and attend to your hanged comrades, I shall return to Martin aboard the Hovering Cylinder.”
“Aye, tha's alright then, Mr. Fate.” Tony watched the Martian wander off towards the looming silver cylinder in the distance. “This's been quite th' adventure.”
“Tony, regardless how th' lads feel 'bout all this,” Grim announced stiffly, “I'm almost glad we came 'ere.”
“But... yet lassie?”
“Lassies come an' go, aye?”
“All that lot 'bout love and runnin' off so quickly?”
“Aye... Tony, maybe it's th' fish o' me, but, I can't remember wot all tha' 'appened all this way.”
“Nay, nor I,” Tony shrugged his fins.
“So, wot now? Pizza time?” Grim asked hopefully.
Tony looked at the many Legged Piranha dangling from ropes in the tree. “Nay, it's 'bout time we stopped 'iding who we are, an' start livin' as in-dee-vid-yules.”
“Wot?”
“Lad, yer different from th' horde,” Tony said. When Grim made to protest such a statement, Tony quickly added, “An' tha's good. Yer been kissed, lad. Ain' none o' us 'ad tha'.”

Fish die belly upward, and rise to the surface. Its their way of falling. 
Andre Gide 

“Hold it!” cried a voice.
“Wot now?” Tony cried bleakly. Looking around, he found nothing to see. The lads were all safely out of the tree, there was the tree of course, and it wouldn't be talking anytime soon. Fate had flown his spaceship away already, long gone. Delorus was out for the count—or rather, dead. All that was left was... a well.
From the well, emerged a fat toad wearing a red cape.
“Hold it, I say!” the toad demanded. It had a very, sort of jovial voice.
While the majority of the Piranha horde gathered behind Tony, Grim and Sloppy Tom, the fat toad stepped out of the well and began hoisting up a rope of some kind.
“Wot're you an' why don' we eat'cha?” Tony shouted.
“Eat me?” the toad sounded offended and hurt. “I can think of two reasons at very least.”
“Well, make it snappy, or we'll be makin' it snappy – if'n ye take me meanin'!”
“Clever, I'm sure. Alright, you frisky fishies. Here! Feast your festive eyes on this lovely prize!” cried the toad, giving the rope a final tug. Bound and gagged, Nexus Zephyr landed with a thud on the ground. “Is that good enough for you?”
“All th' more reason ter eat'cha!” Tony roared. “Let th' lad go!”
“Oh, my... Goodness, no. You see, that just won't do!” cried the toad. “But, oh, how rude of me. I'm Commander Fart, you see. It's up to me to bring this tree burning to the ground, and this Devil Boy with it.”
“Fart? Wot y'got 'gainst th' Cap'n?” Tony yelled.
“Are you aware just how much the Dark Lord has suffered at the--oh my look how tiny they are?--tiny hands of this Tunic Freak?” Commander Fart scoffed. “Okay, okay, I can see from your hungry faces that hostages will do you no good. So, instead, and this is a long-shot, let me tell you... Listen to what this fine gentleman has to say!”
With another yank of a rope, Commander Fart hauled up Killy. He was biting on the other end of his rope, and landed with grace between Fart and Tony.
“I see now, the folly of your ignorance,” Killy explained.
“Wot 'appened ter ye! Sound jus' like Sloppy Tom,” one of the Piranha squeaked.
Tony wandered forward a few paces. “'Ow'd you get 'ere, Killy?”
“Tony, be careful... That's the well of Mímir our challengers crawled out from,” hissed Sloppy Tom. “Well of Knowledge!”
“Wot? So 'e's not dead?” Tony asked.
“No!” Killy exclaimed. “Though, evidently you would prefer it. Perhaps so you have a key to hold in the knowledge? Commander, if you would be so kind? Remove the teacup shard from Sloppy Tom's head and destroy it.”
“My pleasure! It's just like playing Operation! Ooo! Hoo! Hoo! Will he grow a red nose if I hit the sides?” Commander Fart cried in delight.
Before anyone could react, the teacup shard wheeled sharply from Sloppy Tom's head, whirled high into the air and exploded into dust.
“That's all she wrote! No more cerebral function for you, brother!” Killy cackled. “Back to the stupor whence you came. Last call for thoughts!”
“Closing Time,” said Sloppy Tom absent-mindedness.
“Sloppy Tom...” Tony turned to face Killy. “Lads! Listen up. Stay outta this!”

Fish recognize a bad leader. 
Conan O'Brien 

As the battlefield, surrounded by spectator fish was otherwise all but empty, except for Tony, Killy and Commander Fart who stayed in the middle. This was a fish's battle. A real battle. As a single unit, Tony and Killy swam through the air at each other. The two fish chewing and biting any and all their maws could reach. Little legs kicking away, fruitlessly.
Suddenly, the two were torn apart. As if by some invisible force.
“No, no, no... This is all wrong!” Commander Fart said disgusted. “Where's the drama? Where's th' emotion? Here, let me do it.”
With a twist of his wrist, Commander Fart sent Tony falling to the ground, and Killy dangling mid-air. Carefully holding his fingers on both hands like they were spiders, Fart held Killy up like a marionette.
“Oh you, big mean fish. You are old and I am young and strong,” Commander Fart said, voicing in for Killy, as the angry fish's mouth began to open and close.
“Yer a fool, Killy,” Tony roared, not realizing who was speaking on behalf of Killy.
“A wise fool, maybe,” Puppet Killy said. “Though, no less a fool than you! Makin' stop ourselves from eating yummy human meat.”
“Y'know it ain' right!” Tony snarled. “Th' Wizard wot gave us these legs was a 'uman! We owe th' 'umans a lot! A boatload! 'sides! Y'know laws above th' water's different from below!
Rules o' th' deep're different!”
Puppet Killy shook his head. “You took me from the horde and sent me out!”
The Piranha spectators began to murmur.
“Is that so?” asked a little Piranha.
“Wot ye got 'gainst Killy, eh?” asked another one.
“Shomethin' fishhy goin' on here!” Hardly shouted.
“Will ye leave me be? This's between me, an' Killy!” Tony protested.
“Tell 'em! Why y'did it! Yer afraid I'd be a better Leader!”
“Tha's not true,” Tony remarked.
“Leader?” asked one of the Piranha.
“Tony's more of a spokesperson, ye might say,” said another fish.
“Wot yer on 'bout, Leaderin'?” asked yet another fish.
“Nay, this's a wee bit nuts. Let's jus' eat 'em!” said the second fish.
“Eating tastes... like food!” Sloppy Tom announced.
“Didn't Sloppy Tom say tha's the well o' smarts?” asked Grim.
“Aye, sommit like tha',” said another Piranha.
“Right, let's toss 'im in, an' 'ope fer th' best,” said Grim.
“Will y'leave it? This's between Killy an' me!” Tony snapped.
“Nay,” said one of the Piranha. “We're a horde!”
“Hordes' 'unt in packs!” squeaked another.
“Shtand ashide!” Hardly piped in.
“It's dinner time!” yelled another.

It has always been my private conviction that any man who puts his intelligence up against a fish and loses had it coming. 
John Steinbeck 

Hovering above the toilet, Nexus Zephyr suddenly had other plans. Sitting back down again, he began reading the toilet paper in his hands. According to the Encore Edition, the warden of Joint maximum security prison had been recently investigated by none other than the UFO Organization, and sent to the Probe on Martin to be fully prosecuted. Apparently, once known as Professor Eggnix, he was the chief engineer of robotics and mind control techniques on Geyser the Turtle King's home world. Later secretly sliding into the position of warden at the Joint to collaborate with Geyser himself on a diabolical plot to destroy Christmas as well as one of UFO's chief agents. Earlier that day, Mr. Fate had been unavailable for comment, when reporters caught him outside the Probe courthouse. Though, he did wish to express his extreme gratitude toward a few little helpers he had along the way.
“Well isn't that nice?” Nexus said with a smile, before continuing with his business. “It's certainly a treat to read the newspaper and not be the centre of attention.”
After washing his hands, Nexus opened the bathroom door and carefully avoided tripping over a Legged Piranha. Except... there were no Piranhas. Usually, whenever he came out of the bathroom, tripping over fish was the primary hazard! Glancing around, Nex spotted a line up of patiently waiting fish just beside the doorway.
“All set, Cap'n?” squeaked a little Piranha.
“Uh, yeah! Yeah, it's all you. Have fun,” Nexus said, stepping out of the bathroom.
“Fun? Inna bathroom?” asked the little fish. Glancing around to make sure no one was looking, the fish winked a newly developed eyelid and squeaked, “Mum's the word!”