Good viewers, there are moments in life when the chicken is too salty. The vegetables, well, the vegetables come out mushy. And the gravy–no one even remembers to prepare the gravy. There are moments, friends, when life is a little less delicious. But do not lose hope, for we at chicken and rice have experienced the burnt toast of misfortune, but having had to butter that toast and eat it anyway, we have come out stronger. Our month of silent mourning ends now.

No one can truly understand the bond that two lifeforms can share, be it between a man and a dog, a dog and a fish, or maybe even a man and a fish. That fish could have been strong, proud, somewhat misguided at first, oppressing other fish that it felt were different. But maybe she was learning that there is more to another fish than the shimmer of her scales. Maybe she was discovering that there is no truer friend than the one dropping pellets into her tank every morning. Perhaps, just perhaps, she was even learning to love.

But fate it seems had other plans for her, and now she’s swimming in the giant fish tank many people may call heaven. For weeks, we wondered to ourselves why the great shark god would claim such a tiny servant with so much left to give. But we have come to understand that much like a souffle, life has no perfect recipe. Sometimes, we have to make do with with what we have, to improvise for what we don’t, and learn from what we lose.

We feel sorrow no longer. This article is in remembrance of a good friend. Cracker, you may have been an evil, racist, egotistical goldfish but you were our evil, racist, egotistical goldfish. We will not forget.