affame_le_geant_broken_fishbowl fyn gula "motherfuck!" saumboo yelled, as he watched kig mal crumple to the floor. this expletive, rare for saumboo, especially in the presence of the royal couple, slipped out partly because on his way to the floor, king mal accidently crashed into the rather large, lenox crystal fishbowl with two prize winning, google-eyed goldies. and the crazy thing about it, at which this "motherfuck!" was more than quite appropriate, was that the glass broke at the correct perpendicular angle to create the physics necessary to propel the goldies some eight feet in the fucking air! bizarre, though it was, gravity brought them down one at a time in the most unlikely places. the first one plopped directly into the unladylike and open mouth of queen mauvis. she swallowed it without breaking the stride and rhythm of her consecutive string of snoring. in other words, she never knew she ate the whole thing. but the second goldie, spontaneously flip-flopping and spinning out of control, landed splat! on her forehead, night cream and all. the fish, startled to find itself without life sustaining water gulped with obvious fright (was it the night cream?) and swished and twisted its feathery tail with erratic desperation. it tickled the queen and she giggled like a third grade schoolgirl in her sleep, for the sensation entertained her dream as the whiskers of the cat she always wanted. she'd pamper it and call it 'ol pj legs. it was saumboo's "motherfuck" that actually woke her. and he didn't know who to attend to first. there was king mal laying on the spanish tile, unconscious from the shock of discovering one of his treasured apple trees had been violently snatched from the earth. he lay bleeding profusely from a cut on his hand suffered upon striking the sharp edges of the crystal fishbowl. and then there was queen mauvis suddenly screaming, not so much from the sight of king mal's serious injurious position, more so from the slimey goldie now plastered across her large nose and the strange taste in her mouth vaguely similar to sushi. and so before he did anything, saumboo resigned to himself that he needn't apologize for his outburst of swearing. "fuck," he thought, "nobody heard me anyway." he yanked the dead golfish off the queen's face and as best he could, and tried to calm her down. it wasn't easy. "i hate fake tans," he thought, looking for something to clean up the king's blood. 020401 what's it to you? who go blather from