My daughter had proudly announced that she was to be a 'Mummy.' But to what...?
I gazed in horror at the Little Lady as she stood beside her fish tank pointing inside at some little dots that were whizzing about.
See, Daddy? I'm going to be a Mummy!!
She leapt up and down with excitement.
I dragged myself over to the fish tank. This could not be, surely?
My mind wandered back to her birthday and the request she had made for an African snail.
When I had found out that they produced babies faster than I produce sperm and that one of my jobs as a Daddy would be to regularly boil hundreds of baby snails to death, I had said no.
Artwork by the ineffable 
I didn't want to be killing things every five minutes? I had hoped those days were behind me.
I crouched beside my daughter at the fish tank.
How many are there??
I croaked.
Millions!! I can't count them there are so many!!!
She squeaked, her face pressed to the tepid glass.
I made that noise that horses make when they see that the Stable boy approaching with a brush in his hand has red hair.
How could this be? They had assured me in the shop that all the fish we had bought were male. To avoid precisely this sort of jazz happening.
I tried to count the little dots but there were too many. Her fish tank literally looked like a churning tank of oversized sperms.
Fuck, this needed a googling and fast.
How many babies does a guppy have
I typed.
When a guppy gives birth, the females will "drop" up to 200 baby guppies, called fry. They can give birth every 30 days or so...
I flumped down on the floor. 200 babies? Every fucking month?!?!
That was a lot of killing. I would literally be drowning in oily fish souls. Would my eyes turn black? Would that much reapage make me stronger, like in Highlander?
Was I capable of so much death?
Maybe I could spunk into the tank and my hardy sperms would do the killing for me?
The water in the tank seemed to heave to and fro with the volume of fish flesh thrashing about in it as if they could hear my jizzmatic thoughts.
My shoulders slumped. I couldn't escape my destiny. The Taker of Souls it had to be.
Looks like I had better buy another kettle.
