The recent successful escape of Sharkbait had significantly pumped up the spirits of the Tank Gang. Before there still had been doubts about whether they can even pull it off, but now they had seen with their own very eyes that it is possible. And so today was the second day of yet another tank pollution already. The green scurf had already begun to settle on every surface, and there was an unusual air of intensity and anticipation all around, even though everybody was going about their normal business, - Deb was swimming along the glass walls trying to find her "sister", Bubbles was spinning around his bubble box, Peach was hanging on the glass and watching the dentist, Bloat was peacefully floating around and relaxing in the light of a tank lamp, Gurgle was swimming in circles and whining, because he believed he needed to never stop moving or else he will become green, too, Jacques was trimming himself, for lack of another target, and Gill was supervising everyone and everything and generally looking important.

As he swam by Peach, she pried herself from the glass and asked:

"How long is it gonna be till the dentist gets us out, again?"

"He would normally do it 2 days after the start of the pollution, somewhere around noon, so do your math".

"Twelve hours, then. So soon already".

"You're ready?"

"As ready as ever", she smiled, and then added, "But you know, Jacques told me that Gurgle told him…"

"What?"

"He's afraid of microbes, he said. In the ocean".

"Well, if he thinks it's so important, why hasn't he told me?"

Peach hesitated. She and Jacques had asked him the same question, and he told: "Like that stuck-up snout would ever listen to me. He thinks he's the smartest, well, he'll remember me one day, I tell y'all!" For some reason, she and Jacques didn't feel like reassuring him.

Not that Gill needed to know all that.

"Well, Gill, you know how he is. Always bubbling about some stuff and panicking just in order to panic. That was probably nothing".

"Well, then tell Jacques to tell him that we are the fish, and our place is in the ocean. Now, if you put is on the beach, we would die. But what bad can the ocean do to us?"

"I suppose". She stuck to the glass again. Gill looked through the barely transparent wall, but his mind was occupied with things other than the dentist. He was startled when Peach pried herself from the glass again and asked him in a soft voice:

"Gill… you're from the ocean, right?"

"Yeah".

"How old were you when they got you?"

"Pretty old. Of an age when one's supposed to be looking for a couple, actually". A short silence. "That must've been real awful for you".

"It was".

"I see now why you're like this… so eager to get out. Now, when you're born in a tank like us, it's another story. Sometimes I think how I will live when there's no one to feed me or turn on the lamp for me".

"Well, it's possible to maybe have a hard life in the ocean. But if we stay here, we will certainly be given to Darla".

"Yeah, I guess so. You know better anyway. Just, Gill… Don't make anything rash, okay?"

"Do I ever?"

"Like, please. That one time with a file almost cost you an eye, for Moby-Dick's sake! We only have one of you, and it looks like you're stuck as our leader – literally by the right of birth".

"Don't worry, Peach. Everything's gonna be-"

Please, not that pun again, please, not that pun again… Peach thought, annoyed.

"-peachy".

With a groan, Peach sticks to the glass.