I had a work fish. He went by many names because whenever someone would ask what his name was I would just make something up. "Oh that's Steve, yes.... Steve the fish." Right before he died I finally decided his official name was Gandalf the Blue. I also purchased him a new home for his bowl because I thought he'd enjoy a little house. I think I pretty much sentenced him to death when I did that. He died before the house came in the mail.
Gandalf died when I was in Vegas. I immediately blamed my co-worker that was feeding Gandalf. He looked at me horrified because he had no idea the fish had died or that I actually didn't blame him. I silently pointed to the dead fish laying limply in the bowl to really drive the point home.
I left Gandalf in the bowl for most of the day for the viewing. A few people commented that the bowl was starting to smell. Well I didn't properly embalm him guys, now pay your respects to poor Gandalf.
By the end of the day it was time to lay Gandalf to rest. I thought a burial at sea was appropriate but since I'm not going to walk to Boston Harbor with a dead fish I decided a toilet burial would suffice. I told Gandalf he was a good fish and that I'm sorry he did not get to enjoy his Sponge Bob Square Pants house. I carefully dumped him in the toilet and threw the fishbowl in the trash. My fish bowl cleaning days are over!