JimBob and the Extremely Official Certificate
Fish sometimes brought mysterious messages to Schnerdville. Sometimes fish fell from the sky. The town had somehow turned these facts into “Never trust a fish,” which creatures repeated even to fish carrying nothing but their lunch.
At school, Fishiness Studies offered three ratings: NF meant Not Fishy, FF meant Fairly Fishy, and VF meant Very Fishy. You needed a three day class to claim NF. Claiming NF without the class was FF. There was a second class for anybody who wanted the first class explained.
Jim wanted an NF certificate. Bob thought the whole thing was susFISHous. They were twin fish sharing one body, so Bob attended the class whether he wanted to or not. Jim chose their photograph. Bob talked throughout it.
At the final test, the examiner asked why they deserved NF. Jim began explaining. Bob began objecting. “One at a time,” the examiner said. “I was first,” Jim said. “That is always your argument,” Bob replied. The examiner wrote something down. Both brothers stopped to watch her pencil.
Outside, Aarg waited for them. “Never trust a fish,” the examiner muttered at the next form. Jim laughed before thinking. Aarg heard him. Aarg was a fish too. He left without waiting for the result.
“Why did you laugh?” Bob asked Jim. “I don’t know,” Jim replied. “It wasn’t funny.” The examiner returned with an FF certificate. “Fairly Fishy?” Jim asked. “Mostly the arguing,” the examiner said. She would not say what the rest was.
Jim wanted to stay and argue about their arguing. Bob wanted to find Aarg. They turned toward different doors and knocked over the umbrella stand. The examiner picked up her pencil again.
They left with the certificate bent down the middle. Jim wanted to frame it. Bob wanted to throw it away. Neither knew where Aarg had gone. By the next morning, Jim had bought a frame. Bob had ordered a larger bin.
