Engines don't go fishing. It's too uncomfortable!

I don't care how appealing it looks -- you should never, ever let your motor go out fishing in your rowboat alone. It will never catch any fish.

Guppy and Nemo looked carefully at the strange, pale-colored thing floating listlessly in front of them, by all appearances a completely alien presence in their world; they were both tempted to make contact, but there was something vaguely threatening about the almost-invisible skewer which protruded from its mass, and the faint tracery of a strand of hair that led away from it into the unknowable dry.

The round-faced fish grinned broadly, eyes bulging in anticipation as it approached the phallic pink lure - unaware of the barbed hook that hid among its feathery tassels.

I don't know which is worse: the fact that you think a penis-shaped lure will work on me because I'm a gay telescope goldfish, or that you don't understand why I'm offended.

The hook was huge and obvious, dwarfing the lure cleverly fashioned from fancy red and yellow feathers combined with a high-quality purple silicone dildo and the goldfish felt frustrated as he followed it away from the crowd, still holding his pride flag, “I vaguely remember the march was good, why am I always distracted by the most stereotypical shit?!”