Here Fishy Fishy

Wednesday, my boss calls me in to her office. No. Half yells, half whines at me to come into her office is more like it.

"Here," she says, handing me a small green net attached to a stick and glancing toward her large bulbous fish tank. I know this cannot be good.

"A few of the fish have died," she stated matter-of-factly. "I need you to scoop them out and I'll hold the bag."
I looked at her with a tight-lipped bemused smile on my face. Surely she was kidding. But then she jostled the bag a bit and I realized she was definitely not joking.

"Um. Ok." I replied rolling up the sleeve of my sweater. It was a deep tank, the fish were lodged in the rocks at the bottom, and my little green stick only reached so far, so I plunged my arm into the bowl.

As I scraped the net among the rocks to dislodge the fish, it began to disintegrate into mushy fishy blobs. Oh god, oh god, oh god... Swishing the net around - grasping at the floating fish bits - I had to turn my face away from the bowl. It was too horrifying. I slapped the net against the plastic bag to try to free what remained of that sad little fish. She laughed. No... she cackled.

"Ok," She said, "There are two more..."

And this is what I am being paid for.