Once upon a time, there were four peculiar lads named John, Paul, George, and Ringo. They were very peculiar, indeed. One of 'em had a big nose. But that's not the point. They were talented and fab and stuff. They could get everything they wanted, and they did. But it turned out they didn't get everything they wanted, so that last sentence was completely unessisary. You see, Paul wanted one thing and only one thing: a goldfish. You heard me. A goldfish. Now shut up and listen to my story.
Anyway, the lads were sitting around one day being bored, when Paul blurted out:
"I want a goldfish."
Insert awkward silence that's about to be broken by John here.
"...What?"
"I want a goldfish."
"Why?"
"'Cause they look so cute when they swim 'round in their bowl!"
"No it isn't, that's like watchin' paint dry," George butted (heehee) in.
"That's one of the joys of it!" Paul shouted. "You just have t' be patient!"
"Alright, alright," John complained, "we'll get you a bloody goldfish."
"We have enough money for TWO."
"OKAY, OKAY, GEEZ."
After John went to the pet shop conviniantly located in a helicopter, he showed Paul the fish he bought.
"...One of 'em isn't a goldfish," Paul said dissapointingly, "that's a Neon Tetra."
"SUCK IT." John nearly slammed the bag of fishes on the table and stomped off.
After John's little innapropriate outburst, Paul looked for something (in the way she moves) to put the fish in. After days of searching (including two trips to the army surplus store), he decided to put the fish in Ringo's bass drum (which he would give Paul a serious beatdown for two weeks later). He fed 'em and and cleaned 'em and even dressed 'em up as pirates (George would take the idea years later). After awhile, Paul noticed something.
"Hmm, I noticed something."
George noticed something, too. "Your fish are turnin' darker."
"Exactly!"
"Don't worry about it, it's probably natural for a one hundred percent healthy goldfish to turn colours."
"...George, are you high?"
"...Maybe."
The next morning, John woke up to Paul's girlish screaming, made even lovlier by the fact that it was 5 in the morning.
"Jesus, Paul," John moaned, "What are ya--"
"THE FISH, JOHN!" Paul grabbed and shook John like a Wiimote. "THE FISH IS DEAD!"
"There, there, Paul, it's okay," John consoled Paul, "Now shut the hell up and I'll get the fish out."
Technically, it was only half a fish, since the rest was all skin and bones.
"Bloody hell," John was wow'd, "What happened to it?"
Just then, he saw the other fish swim by happily appearing to be eating something.
"...Oh my god."
They then had a toilet-funeral for the fish (a sad moment permanently ruined by George complaining about having to go to the bathroom), and then, a fish exicution for the other.
"I'm hungry," George said looking through the freezer and grabbed a box. "Who wants fishsticks?"