The Great Betta Tail Type War - Part 1
(Please keep in mind this is completely fiction)
Please read! I'd love to hear your opinions, and if you'd like you can give me your fishes info and I'll put them in it somehow. :)
Prologue and or chapter 1:
Brent woke up slowly, stretching his turqouise blue fins before swimming to the top of his three gallon tank for some air. As he breathed in, he glanced around his owners room, hoping he was around to feed him. Seeing no sight of any human, Brent aggravatingly swam down to his favorite black plant and snuggled inside of it. He loved the dark, mysterious feel of the cold, plastic leaves brushing against him as he swam through it. After about four times of swimming through the plant, he got bored once again and wished he had something to do.
After poking around the tank, kicking random gravel pieces and practicing his flair, he decided he should just get out of the house for a while. Maybe do some shopping, get some lunch, or visit one of his friends still at the pet store or with other betta lovers all over town. He went into his bathroom cave and gargled with minty mouth wash into a bubble (as a precaution to not getting any of it in his water supply), combed his scales, and added some extra slime coat to his fins.
After checking himself out in the mirror, he grabbed the keys to his brand new dark blue Watergo watercar, his prized possession. It took him a year to save up enough to buy a brand new watercar. He spent many days scrubbing algae off of larger tanks, cooking fresh bloodworms for the rich snobby betta's in the giant mansion tanks, and basically doing anything he could to add to what seemed impossible. When he finally got enough money to buy his watercar, he was estatic. He saw the gorgeous dark blue watercar at the Watergo brand retailer on his way home from one of the snobs homes the day he finally saved enough and greatly admired it. It was perfectly round; an exact sphere. It's large window wrapped around the entire top half of it, outlined in a shiny chrome frame. The dark blue of the outside matched perfectly with the black and navy four seater interior. It was something special, and he knew it would be his, so he bought it that day without any hesitation.
Grabbing his iPhoneSea 4, his wallet and his tank key, he pressed the large red button located on the bottom of the round, finheld tank hey, causing the sky blue aquarium lid to slowly open halfway. As he pressed the red button again, his watercar came down from the tank lid and landed promptly and firmly onto the black gravel.
Brent got in the car, brushing his fin along the soft interior. He then closed his door, sealing all water for the ride inside, and took for lift off. He flew out of the tank, his straight face turning to a wide grin. Shooting out of the water into the air never got old to him. He felt like he was flying; like he was a majestic eagle, soaring through the skies. He felt like a fly, buzzing around everyone on a warm, summer night. More importantly though, he felt free. Like leaving the tank every once in a while gave him the thrill he needed.
As he soared out of his owners bedroom, he steered himself into the kitchen, anxiously waiting to be outside. He finally reached the cat door for Joel's (his owner) cat, Wesley. Grey hairs littered along the edges of the soft clear plastic doorway as he brushed through it and out into the back yard. He was free now; there was no stopping him. He span around in circles, raced into the leaves of the 10 foot tall palm trees lined up along the white fence, splashed along the top of the pool as his car contrasted with the red and white tile.. His options were endless. After about half an hour of play, he flew down the driveway and once he was passed the creepy neighbors house, he flew 30 feet into the air and stayed there until he reached town.
Tampa, Florida was his home town. He was born and raised for five months at the Walmart downtown, a very unhappy place for all fish. He lived his first five months in a dirty cup that got changed once a week. He was fed once a day with cheap, off brand flakes that they also fed the goldfish. One day, the day after he turned five months, a tall, spikey haired teen boy walked in. He was wearing a blue Hollister hoodie, loose fit black skinny jeans, and a pair of blue Vans. "I loved his look that day; I felt close to him instantly from his colors to mine. As he glanced around all of the bettas, I saw him pick up fish after fish, unhappy. I started to wonder if he was one of those brats; those spoiled kids who come into the store once a week wanting a new betta since they didn't properly care for the ones they had. However, I was wrong.. As he lifted the cup I was in with the blue lid meaning I was a veiltail male, he smiled at me and softly put me in his shopping basket. He then walked over to the plants and tanks, and glancing at me every couple seconds to see what matched me, put various items in the basket including a tall blue plant, two tall black plants, a short, silk blue plant, and some black gravel."
Smiling, he looked at me again and said "hey buddy! I've got a tank cycling for you at home. Three gallons. I hope you'll like it!"
Memories always come to Brent at the wrong time, like when he's driving. Glancing around as his tail pushed around the steering wheel, he saw his favorite restaurant; The Seafood Escape. This place has a giant 500 gallon fish tank in the back that the owner's fish runs. As he flew down onto the red tin roof of the restaurant, he landed on the area reserved for fish and parked his watercar in the small freshwater pool above the tank. Stepping out of the watercar, he slowly walked to the door of the restaurant. Two crowntails waited at the dueling silver doors and held them open by their tails.
They both said "Welcome, enjoy your meal." in the most careless fashion. Typical crowntails; making their hateful ways known to everyone.
Brent replied, "Thanks." and walked to the booth to order a table. The woman behind the booth was rather rude as well; but in a different way. Someone that had been through a lot in their life time that tried to smile but couldn't.
Throwing off a fake grin, the overweight orange and red veiltail spoke softly of the delimna.
"Sir?" she said, holding a green menu in her hand, "we have no available tables, however, see that woman over there?" she pointed to a gorgeous yellow/green doubletail girl with pink lips and a dainty figure.
"Yeah, what about her?" he said, trying to hide the grin on his face.
"Well, she's at a table for two, would you maybe like to sit with her?"
he hesitated. How awkward would that be? What if she thought he was a freak and stormed out? Well, it's worth a shot with something that beautiful.
"Sure.. I guess?" he replied, trying not to look to excited.
He followed her as she led him to the table, and as they approached it and asked the girl if it would be fine, she smiled and said "it's not a problem, I could use some company to help me finish the fried pellets I ordered!"
All three of them laughed, and the server said their waitress would be with them shortly. After the server walked away, it was awkward for a moment. Brent and the new girl looked around, neither sure what to say. Brent finally forked up the courage to talk to her.
"Soooo..." He said, yawning. "I'm Brent, what's your name?"
She looked up from her caudal fin and said "Oh, hiii, I'm Stacie. What brings ya here Brent?"
He shrugged, not sure what to say, but managed to come up with a good excuse. He finally came up with a joke after about ten seconds.
"Certainly not for the good food, right?" as they both laughed and Stacie nodded in agreement.
Several hours went by. They both already ordered, finished their meals, and had two chocolate algae shakes each. Just as they were about to exchange numbers, a loud banging came from the front door, followed by two shriekish screams.
The restaurant got silent; everything was still but the sound of bubbles coming from the fishes breathing. The door finally busted open, and a large man from the Florida betta government branch came in. You may know him as the Vice President of Florida's betta's, Forvell F. He looked around the room, scanning everyone. His jet black body shined with the red of his long, flowing veiltail fins.
Swimming to the front of the restaurant, all eyes still silently upon him, he gave a worried expression. He grabbed the microphone from the back of the stage area where live music plays on the weekends and did the "testing, testing, one-two-three" skit before speaking. As he sat down behind the mic, a camera crew came in and set up. Thirty minutes of silence had gone by.. But what he had to say shocked them all.
"Good evening my fellow American betta's. I chose to make this announcement here, a random location my GPS located. If I recorded my nation wide pres confernce in the Tallahassee