Jacques wandered down the aisle, humming to himself as he went. He liked the pet aisle, especially the little fishies in the tanks. They were just like him. They didn't speak english, and were trapped in a little box that the only way they would get out was if someone took them out and gave them to someone else to take care of them. Oh, the woes of being held in captivity! Jacques crouched in front of one of the tank, whispering to the little fish in french and shaking his finger at them. It was early morning, and time for their breakfast. He was in charge of feeding them. He straightened up with a slight groan, him being old and that being what old people did, and hummed more of the song that was stuck in his head. He wandered over to the cupboard where the food was kept and unlocked it. They were almost out of fishy food. He would have to get more later.

He moved from tank to tank putting the amount of food needed into each tank, saying something to the fish in each tank as he went. A mother and her young son walked by, giving him a weird look as they went. For a moment Jacques almost gave in to the temptation to run away, but then he looked at the brave little fish floating there despite the cruelties of life, and it gave him strength! He took a deep breath and carried on with the feeding, being even more affectionate to the fish now. He went right down to the end of the aisle, finished the whole thing, and then stood back to admire his work. The fishies were all eating happily. He smiled and went back to the cupboard, put away the supplies, and locked the door. He then watched the fish eat triumphantly, taking a break before carrying on with his duties.

Jacques pulled up the ladder for feeding the higher up fish and sat down on it. He was going to stay until he had to leave.

Jacques stared wide-eyed as the funny smelling man walked by and started shouting at the fish. They darted away, hiding in the little fake castles and such.
"Arret, arret!" Jacques shouted desperately, jumping off the ladder and trying to stop the man. But he was too late. The weird smelly guy had already knocked the fish tank down, and he was moving on to the others. Jacques was torn between stopping the crazy man from knocking down the other fish and saving the ones on the ground. He hurriedly turned on the tap of the sink below the counter and put in the plug, filling it with water hurriedly. He put the fish in as gently as he could and ran after the hobo, picking up fish and putting them in the sink as he went. Finally all of the poor fishies were in the sink, and Jacques could focus on the man who had tried to hurt them. That horrible, horrible man.

Jacques stared at the other man hatefully, eyes narrowed and scowling. He rolled up his sleeves suggestively. His face was slowly turning red with anger. Jacques was ready to fight. Nobody hurt his fishy friends! NOBODY! With that the tidal wave of angry french words came out of his mouth. He unleashed his fury at the other old man, for now only verbally. He didn't care if Steve couldn't understand him. He just wanted him to understand how angry he was. Hopefully the man would take the hint not to mess with the fish. It wasn't hard to interpret, right?

Jacques stopped yelling immediately when the other guy started talking french to him. His eyes were wide for a moment, and he almost forget about the fish. But then his eyes narrowed again. French or not, this man had threatened his fishies, and then actually hurt them. He was going to PAY.

"Oui je veut de combattre." He growled, glaring angrily at the smelly hobo. He was going to get revenge for those fish. Steve would regret the day he messed with Jacques and the Wal*Mart fishies! Jacques advanced a few steps, getting ready to fight. He was old, in his 70s. Steve was much younger, and possibly bigger, but Jacques faced his opponent fearlessly.

By now a crowd of people had gathered to see what the crashing noise had been. Finding two old men about to fight was not what they had expected, but most of them were interested in staying and seeing the outcome. I mean, that's pretty much a once in a lifetime experience, crazy old men going at each other in a store! and over fish too! One guy had got out his camera phone and was taping the two of them.

But Jacques was blind to all but the man in front of him! The one who who had tried to hurt the fishies!

Jacques simply grinned at the other in response to what he said. His teeth were surprisingly well cared for. Jacques liked his teeth. He wasn't letting old age ruin his beautiful smile! Of course at that moment his smile wasn't particularly charming in any way. More scary, psychotic, threatening. Like a wild animal who's cornered it's prey. Next thing you know he'd be growling too, from the looks of it.

Without another word or thought, Jacques lunged at Steve, yelling while he did so. It was then Jacques realised he had no idea how to fight. Upon coming in range of his opponent, he hesitated a moment, and then wildly threw out his arm, hoping to hit the hobo. He held his other hand protectively in front of his face, just in case Steve went for him while he was distracted.

Jacques would win this fight, to defend his honour and avenge his fish!

When Jacque's hand made contact with Steve's face he paused a moment to admire his work. He smiled proudly at the sight of blood, leaving himself open. He quickly learned from his mistake, and made a mental note to never do something as stupid as that again. Steve's fist made contact with his stomach hard and fast, causing Jacques to double over with pain. The wind was knocked out of him. However, as he was in the process of bending he got an idea; instead of leaving himself open again, why not use the situation to his advantage, surprise his oponent?

So Jacques, at about the height of his opponents waist suddenly lunged forward, in an attempt at a sort of football tackle to take Steve down at the same time as he went down. It was badly done though, and not really sure wether Steve was with him or not he hit the floor, narrowly missing the shards from the fish tanks.