Today marks the sad demise of Tiglath Pileser III, our fighting fish – known as Tig to his friends.
Tig had a pampered and docile existence and yet clearly was not happy. He must have been pining for the Siamese fjords, or something.
Coming from a maritime nation, I felt it best to give him a burial at sea, or the nearest we could manage.
So Tig was flushed this morning.
Ode to Tig
Blue fish, noble birth
Floating now through dark sewers
and back to the sea
Two points:
i) You flushed him down the bog?
ii) You should stick to writing sermons
i yes
ii no
V: Rest eternal grant him, O Lord.
R: Let food perpetual drift upon him.
-j