Group Banter Race to a million
- Thread starter Deleted member 1394328
- Start date
I wanna go to sleep!
Playing fast and loose with the word 'masterpiece' there aren't they?
DO it
I'm too busy coming up with shot jokes.
I'm very disgruntled with myself.
I'm very disgruntled with myself.
I'll watch it and find out
Report your findings in a 250 page blow by blow dossier please
Hope you're all doing well. Running a few errands this morning so I'm quiet 
Blow by blow hehehe
No no no. We hope YOU are doing wellHope you're all doing well. Running a few errands this morning so I'm quiet
We hope everyone is doing wellNo no no. We hope YOU are doing well
A new addition to the ever expanding millions comic range
Fish & Grapefruit: The Case of the Passport Polka
It was a Tuesday. Or possibly a Thursday. Fish had forgotten again, despite Grapefruit writing the date in marker on his tank.
In the detective office above Larry’s Discount Taxidermy, Fish spun in his chair wearing a leather jacket two sizes too small for his gills. He looked like a punk rock sardine who'd lost a bar fight with a tattoo gun.
Grapefruit, perched firmly on a stack of case files, narrowed her eyes. "You done spinning, or do I have to throw you back into the ocean of irrelevance?"
Fish grinned. “I spin because I’m free, Grapefruit. Like a koi in a swimming pool.”
She rolled her eyes so hard, a seed popped out.
Before the situation could get more citrusy, the phone rang.
Grapefruit answered. “Fish & Grapefruit Investigations. We fight crime. No, we don’t do birthday parties.”
She hung up, then immediately picked up again as it rang.
This time, it was serious.
“Customs just flagged a man at the airport with seventeen passports,” she said. “He’s claiming to be a freelance ambassador-slash-yoga instructor.”
Fish slapped his fins together. “That sounds exactly like my ex-stepdad!”
“Fish. You’re adopted.”
“Exactly.”
Scene: Airport Interrogation Room
The suspect, a man with an ascot, sunglasses indoors, and the smirk of someone who thinks Bitcoin is a personality, sat confidently.
“I am Prince Ricardo von Yogaville of New Finlandia,” he said. “These passports are for... flexibility.”
Grapefruit leaned forward. “You have documentation for countries that don’t exist. One of these is just a laminated Blockbuster card.”
Fish squinted. “Wait... is Yogaville real? Because I think I have a T-shirt.”
“Fish,” Grapefruit said, “if this guy told you he was a mermaid, you’d ask for dating tips.”
“I mean, he is well-moisturized.”
After Grapefruit found a hidden compartment in his suitcase full of stamps, glue sticks, and a surprisingly accurate Icelandic passport press, they had him.
As officers hauled the man away, Fish looked thoughtful.
“You know, if I had a fake passport, I’d go by ‘Finn Diesel.’ Or maybe ‘Gill Witherspoon.’”
Grapefruit sighed. “I swear, one day I’m going to squeeze you.”
“You say that like it’s not already happening, emotionally.”
Fish & Grapefruit: The Case of the Passport Polka
It was a Tuesday. Or possibly a Thursday. Fish had forgotten again, despite Grapefruit writing the date in marker on his tank.
In the detective office above Larry’s Discount Taxidermy, Fish spun in his chair wearing a leather jacket two sizes too small for his gills. He looked like a punk rock sardine who'd lost a bar fight with a tattoo gun.
Grapefruit, perched firmly on a stack of case files, narrowed her eyes. "You done spinning, or do I have to throw you back into the ocean of irrelevance?"
Fish grinned. “I spin because I’m free, Grapefruit. Like a koi in a swimming pool.”
She rolled her eyes so hard, a seed popped out.
Before the situation could get more citrusy, the phone rang.
Grapefruit answered. “Fish & Grapefruit Investigations. We fight crime. No, we don’t do birthday parties.”
She hung up, then immediately picked up again as it rang.
This time, it was serious.
“Customs just flagged a man at the airport with seventeen passports,” she said. “He’s claiming to be a freelance ambassador-slash-yoga instructor.”
Fish slapped his fins together. “That sounds exactly like my ex-stepdad!”
“Fish. You’re adopted.”
“Exactly.”
Scene: Airport Interrogation Room
The suspect, a man with an ascot, sunglasses indoors, and the smirk of someone who thinks Bitcoin is a personality, sat confidently.
“I am Prince Ricardo von Yogaville of New Finlandia,” he said. “These passports are for... flexibility.”
Grapefruit leaned forward. “You have documentation for countries that don’t exist. One of these is just a laminated Blockbuster card.”
Fish squinted. “Wait... is Yogaville real? Because I think I have a T-shirt.”
“Fish,” Grapefruit said, “if this guy told you he was a mermaid, you’d ask for dating tips.”
“I mean, he is well-moisturized.”
After Grapefruit found a hidden compartment in his suitcase full of stamps, glue sticks, and a surprisingly accurate Icelandic passport press, they had him.
As officers hauled the man away, Fish looked thoughtful.
“You know, if I had a fake passport, I’d go by ‘Finn Diesel.’ Or maybe ‘Gill Witherspoon.’”
Grapefruit sighed. “I swear, one day I’m going to squeeze you.”
“You say that like it’s not already happening, emotionally.”
Morning Lexi. How are you feeling today?
Good morning part 2 or 3 or summin
Good evening pretty lady.
I’ve been better but not terrible. Just some pain and sad.
It could always be worse.
Hey cute bunny
Morning Lexi and Wonderoo