Story of My Life

Death has run rampant in the glass-confined aquatic corner of my office. However, the latest family of finned friends seem to have taken. They are going on about four weeks now, with nary a sign of ich or rot.

As was discussed before, the breed, though vegan, is terribly aggressive, and one male is recommended for any collective group of females. So it was that I assembled this family, one bright yellow male Kenyi with bold black stripes and three deep blue females.

Much hay was made, as you may remember, concerning my fish and any number of theoretical aspirations I was accuse of harboring. And yes, I suppose, it must be nice to be king of the reef, the sole dominant male with three sexy swimming ladies all to oneself...

It's the way of nature. Who am I to argue with that. Besides, a tank full of polygamist trout is always a good conversation starter...

Now that the water is clearing and the biological filter is nearing equilibrium, a new problem seems to be arising. Apparently, the three blue girls are not necessarily what they originally appeared to be. Two of them, after a brief spell of odd behavior, have begun to change color, losing the blue hue, and developing a pale yellow glint. This does not mean that they are changing gender, rather, they were already male to begin with. Sub-dominant males, living life as females to avoid persecution and death.

I guess my alpha is just a little too beta to hold his title. As the blues turn yellow, the original yellow has started to fade and his stripes are nearly gone.

The one remaining blue female has, as any smart woman would do in this situation, gone into hiding.

Sure, I'm suppose to limit the population of this species to one male for three females, which I tried to do, but what I ended up with was a tank full of angry transvestites. Great. Just fucking great...

(Alright, I just tossed you vultures a softball. Have at it.)