"They're at the bottom of the tanks. A problem with the water, you see."
"Well, tell them to swim around a bit. My son has come to view these fish and you're telling me that they're tired!"
"No, sir. You've misunderstood. Look, the fish aren't tired."
"Lazy, then? Come on, wake the sausages up. We've paid £50 each and the fish are asleep."
"They're dead, God damnit! They died last night, every single one. And I tell you, each of the bastards had a sinister goodbye, they did. It was full of bleakness and shivers for those fish, they quivered to their last, they eyeballed me, asking for help, but I couldn't do anything. It was too late. Then they flopped, one by one, to the bottom of the tank and I must mention here the sadness that stripped me of all my clothes."
"I'm not sure that was entirely necessary. Such graphic explanation."
"I wanted to spare your boy the details but you gave me no chance with your insistence. Perhaps squire, it would benefit you to be less forthcoming in the future. What do you say to that?"
"No, brother, let us fight. Fight here and now."
Father and aquarium assistant fought there amidst the baffled spectators, who all were disappointed by what they had seen so far today, but, upon witnessing this extravaganza, their eyes sparkled and they grew fins. Suddenly, everyone leapt and landed inside the fish tank and before they knew it people were watching them, tapping the glass and smiling.
"We did it," the voices muttered, "they're inside."