You see, I was
in a taxi on my way to the throne in Bel Air walking through Dallas one day when I heard some visceral splashing from under one of the water runoff vents. So, like any sane person would, I broke the vent off with a crowbar and slid under it to find the source of this noise.
Turns out, it was a poor little goldfish, flopping around in the sewage with a charizard standing menacingly above it. The orange sub-dragon was pointing a gun at its head!
So, as any aforementioned sane person would do, I hit the charizard in the stomach with the crowbar and pushed him away.
In a thick and extraordinarily stereotypical Russian accent, I said to the fish “Here you go little fish, this will make you strong like Russian grizzly bear” and poured some of my Chernobyl-Draft vodka on him.
Like a beautiful Russian flower, he grew massive and became bright and colorful. The only difference between the two is that the fish didn’t die two days later from sub-zero temperatures.
So, the joyous little thing swam away, off to other adventures. I looked back at the charizard. He seemed to be okay, only minor bruising, so I slipped back up through the drainage opening and went on my merry way.
That charizard later went to the hospital because he had a couple broken ribs, but I think everything turned out okay.