Once upon a time there was a fish called Bob. Bob lived under the sea with his friend Colin the Crab and other assorted underwater creatures. One day, Bob was at Colin's house, watching TV. They were watching a film called Jaws, the story of a huge great white shark that was terrorising the inhabitants of a small American island. Halfway through the film, Bob got up and flicked off the TV set.

'What are you doing?' said Colin. 'I was watching that!'

'We've got to do something about this. Those people are in danger!' Bob said heroically.

'What are you talking about?' Colin replied, 'It's a - '

'I know what you're going to say,' Bob interrupted. 'How am I, Bob the Fish, going to stop a huge shark. I don't know Colin, but I can't sit here and watch another kiddie get munched up by that thing.'

'But - ' Colin started.

'No, you won't talk me out of it. I know it's going to be tough, and if you want to stay here I'll understand.'

'It's - '

'I'll talk to it, fish to fish,' Bob continued to himself. 'If that doesn't work, I'll - '

'IT'S A FILM!' Colin shouted in capital letters. 'IT ISN'T REAL!'

'Oh,' said Bob. 'I thought it was the news. They don't need my help then?'

'No! It's not even a real shark. It's just a big flap of rubber!'

'So no new adventure for me then,' Bob huffed. 'No The Adventures of Bob the Fish ... The Attack Of The Killer Shark.'

'Not today, no,' said Colin. 'Now put the TV back on and let's watch the rest of the film.'

Bob returned to his chair and drummed his fingers impatiently on the arm, causing them to come loose and float away. While Colin continued to watch the film, Bob looked sulkily around the room, deliberately avoiding the TV set.

'What's that on the floor?' he asked Colin suddenly.

'It's just a stack of old magazines. I need to take them to the charity shop,' Colin replied. 'Now, please ssshhh!'

'Can I read one?'

'Yes,' said an exasperated Colin, 'just stop interrupting!'

Bob picked up the top magazine, which was called Hello. On the front was a famous football star with his equally famous and twig-like wife, holding a baby. Below in large letters were the words 'OUR NEW BABY', followed by 'Why all we want is privacy.' Inside were twenty pages of the couple and their children, in various familial poses around their country mansion. Bob tutted and read part of the interview that accompanied the pictures.

Colin gave irritated glances as Bob huffed and puffed while he flicked through the pages. In each photograph the couple were dressed differently; on this particular page she was wearing a satin dress, a tiara and diamond studded high heels while her husband was wearing a white suit. He stared vacantly into near-space, while she looked directly and seductively at the camera.

Tossing the magazine to one side, Bob picked up the next. It was called Armchair Detective, and was about real unsolved murder cases across the world. This was much more interesting, Bob thought, and, much to Colin's relief, he settled into his chair and read quietly, cover to cover. On the final page a curious story caught his fish-eye. Clearly it was a case that wasn't considered too important, in a section called And Finally. It took up a mere quarter of a page and was called 'Another Mysterious Fish Disappearance Baffles New York Cops.' How strange, thought Bob, and he read carefully:

'WHAT!' Bob exclaimed loudly, jumping up from his seat and switching off the TV set. 'Have you read this!'

'Hey, I was watching that!' said Colin incredulously. 'Turn it back on!'

'No way, Colin. We're going to America to catch the Fish Lady!'

'Who in Oliver the Omnipotent Octopus's name is that?'

'She's a ruthless fish-killer! I just read about her. Come on, we're leaving now!'

'But we can't go out! There's a new series starting on ITV tonight,' Colin whined. 'Celebrity Underwater Bingo, it looks really good.'

'Yeah, right,' Bob replied sarcastically, 'I saw the trailer - they were all wearing diving gear. It's trash, Colin, trash! Now let's go!'

Colin tutted loudly in protest. 'Yeah, yeah, right,' he muttered to himself dejectedly. 'Here we go again. The Adventures of Bob the Fish ... The Snare Of The Fish Lady. Never mind Colin the Crab.' Realising he was probably in a no-win situation, he reluctantly left his seat and led the way out of the door.

'Wait!' said Bob suddenly, 'Aren't you forgetting something important?'

'Er, no, I don't think so,' Colin pondered, putting a claw to his chin.

'Don't you need to do something before we go?' Bob hinted, pointing at Colin's bony backside.

'Oh, yes, sorry!' Colin exclaimed. 'First I need to go to the toilet.'

'Why don't you just wait until we get to America?' Bob suggested.

'Because, Bob, I very much doubt I'll find a toilet in America that is as comfortable as my Baxter's Deluxe ComfiThrone 680LX^TM.'

'You're probably right Colin, with it's gold plated chain and velvet cushioned seat, you can Feel Like A King While You Do Your Thing ^TM.'

Before long Bob was speeding across the Atlantic Ocean, with Colin in tow. Three days later they emerged in New York Harbour, and from there they sped straight to the Bronx and Chief Madobee's office.

Madobee looked like a huge, flesh-coloured snowman. He was so large it wasn't even clear whether he was sitting on a chair. He sat with his desk perched on his belly and gestured for Bob and Colin to enter. He shuffled around bits of paper, as if looking for something in particular, but quickly gave up without picking one out.

'Look at all this work! I ain't been home in two years,' he lamented. 'I've forgotten what my wife and kids look like!'

'You're that busy?' said Colin in disbelief.

'No, I'm just so fat I can't get outta my office. One day I ate too much, been stuck in here since. I'll tell ya one thing fellas, my armpits are startin' to burn. But I ain't here for personal hygiene, I gotta job to do, and I'm gonna do it!' He slammed his fist on his desk and added a couple of 'Goddammit's for good effect. He then stood up, taking his desk with him; his stomach still firmly wedged beneath it. All the papers flew off onto the floor and, with a shrug, he prised off the desk and let it drop before grabbing Bob's fin and shaking it firmly. 'I heard about you from my limey friend Spiggot,' he said. 'You got quite a reputation there, my friend. Pleased to meet ya, Bab The Fish.'

'Actually, it's Bob,' said Bob. 'And this is my good friend Colin the Crab. And we're here to help you catch the Fish Lady!'

Madobee whistled. 'That's one hell of a tall order Bab,' he said, opening up a huge drawer in a filing cabinet. 'This here is all we have on the Fish Lady. She's quite an elusive character.'

'I read the description,' Bob said. 'Is there anything else to go on Chief?'

'Not a lot,' Madobee explained. 'Apart from her description, we got her first name, Isobel. We also know which apartment block she lives in, but we don't know which apartment. Could be any one of six. It's a tough nut to crack, Bab, and it'd be good to free up the space in this here drawer. I got nowhere to put my snacks,' he said, pointing out a large collection of donuts, pretzels and hot dogs piled up in one corner.

'Leave it to me, Chief!' Bob exclaimed.

'Hey, wait a minute, Bab. We can't just send anyone out on a case. You're not a cop, and you're not even American! If the Mayor finds out he'll bust my butt as sure as my middle name's Jefferson!'

'Just give me twenty-four hours, Chief. That's all I ask.'

'Well, okay, but I'm putting my butt on the line for you Bab. Don't let me down!'

Bob and Colin left the office and stood on the steps of the police station, looking down at the sidewalk, which is a kind of wide, reinforced American pavement built specially for large people. There was a continual flow of people bustling along, shoulder to shoulder, belly to bum.

'Must be the rush hour,' said Bob. 'Look at all those people!'

'So where to first?' Colin asked.

'Sounds to me like we should check out a few bars,' said Bob. 'The Fish Lady likes to hang around them. Plus, after that long swim I could do with a bit of liquid refreshment.'

Bob and Colin attempted to join the flow of people, but were forced back out onto the steps.

'Excer-uusssee me!' said one person loudly and sarcastically, using one more syllable to say it than they needed to. 'Goddamn limey fish!' spat another.

'Grab hold of my tail, Colin,' said Bob. He jumped up and fish-slapped his way through the crowd and straight into a taxi.

'Where to Mac?' said the taxi driver.

'Actually, it's Bob,' said Bob. 'And this is my good friend - '

'Okay, Bab, Squab, whatever Mac! Time is money, where the hell y'wanna go already?'

'Take us to the nearest bar.'

The taxi lurched forward a couple of feet and stopped.

'There y'go Mac, that's two-twenty-five.'

Bob fish-slapped his way back through the crowd with Colin and entered a seedy bar called Mahoney's Saloon. As they entered they were greeted by a synchronised turning of heads and a sudden silence. Bob approached the bar and asked for two whiskeys, straight.

'Steady Bob,' said Colin nervously. 'You know I can't have too much.'

'Drink it slow,' said Bob quietly, looking around at the staring eyes, penetrating the mist of blue smoke that hung in the air. Bob decided he should show these people that he's not to be messed with, so he jumped up onto the bar and stuck his head in his drink, sucking it down in one.

'Hey, you drink like a fish!' said the barman, deciding it was probably best to get that rather obvious joke out of the way early.

'Same again,' said Bob, jumping back out of the glass. A man sitting next to him guffawed loudly.

'Say pal, the next one's on me!' he said, slamming a ten dollar bill on the counter. 'Make it a large one, Marvin,' he said to the barman. 'My name's Ed,' he said, shaking Bob by the fin. 'Pleased to meet ya.'

It seemed that, having gained Ed's approval, everyone else in the bar returned to normal. They continued to laugh, shout, drink and occasionally shoot one another. Every time someone new approached the bar, they shook Bob by the fin and bought him and Colin a drink.

'So what brings you to these parts, Bab?' said Ed.

'I'm here to catch the Fish Lady,' said Bob. 'Once and for all!'

'You wanna be careful, Bab. She ain't no broad I'd wanna be messin' with, and I ain't even a fish!'

'Someone has to do something,' said Bob, puffing up his chest. Colin burped loudly.

'Well, if you wanna do it, I'll give you a tip Bab. Word on the street is, that there Fish Lady hangs about in Hank's Saloon, a couple o' blocks from here.'

'Thank's Ed, I owe you one!' said Bob, slapping him on the back with his fin.

'You take care o'yerself, partner,' said Ed, raising his glass. 'To Bab! Bab The Fish!'

By the time they left the bar, Colin was feeling rather the worse for wear. He was so drunk he was walking forwards in a perfectly straight line. Outside Hank's Saloon, he got his claw stuck down a grating.

'Bobsh, help me out, I'm schtuk-uk.' He finished his incoherent sentence with a very suspicious hiccup.

'I'll go in and get help,' said Bob. 'You wait here.'

The bar wasn't particularly busy, and as soon Bob entered he caught the eye of a young attractive lady perched on a high stool. There was something mesmerising about her and, forgetting instantly about Colin, Bob climbed up and sat beside her.

'What's a nice plaice like you doing in a place like this?' said the woman, eyeing Bob up and down provocatively. She had blonde hair and bright red lipstick that matched her polka-dot dress. As she turned her head, Bob noticed there was a patch over her other eye.

'I'm no plaice, I'm one hundred percent - ' Bob started, in as deep and hunky a voice as he could muster, before whispering in her ear.

'Mmmmm, my favourite,' the woman purred, and tickled Bob's belly. 'So, is my new little fishy friend goin' to buy a lonesome girl a drink?'

'Sure, I'm Bob. Bob the Fish.'

'They call me Isobel,' said the woman. 'Cause that's my name. I ain't never seen you in here before, little fishy-wishy.'

Bob noticed the barman giving him a very strange look. Whenever Isobel was looking away, he would shake his head urgently and drag his finger across his neck. Bob was far too enamoured with his new lady friend to care, and in any case the barman's ears were far too large for him to be taken seriously.

'Hey, Isobel, I ain't heard from Barry the Barracuda in a while,' said the barman suggestively. Curiously, he looked straight at Bob as he spoke these words.

'Gee Hank, if you ain't heard from him, he must be on the Moon,' Isobel giggled. 'What with those big lugs o' yours.'

The barman sneered. 'You got no idea where he is then?'

'Gee Hank, I ain't seen Barry in months,' Isobel replied innocently.

'But you were down here with him last week, remember? Ain't no-one seen him since you left with him that day.'

'What are you tryin' to say?'

'It seems to me that you been leaving with quite a few fish of late, and ain't no-one seen head or tail of 'em since.'

'Drop it Hank,' said Isobel abruptly, making Bob jump. 'I got no idea what you talkin' about.' She reverted to her sweet talking, and tickled Bob again. 'Me and my new little fishy friend just want a little drinky poo.'

'Yeah, two drinky poos,' said Bob assertively, slamming his fin on the bar. He'd never heard of a drinky poo, but hoped it was better than a pooey drink. 'And stop harassing my lady friend, unless you're looking for a good fish-slapping.'

'Hey buddy,' said the barman, 'I'm only tryin' ta help ya, ya know. I ain't - '

'So fix the drinks then. Two drinky poos,' Bob interrupted, 'and make it snappy, flappy.'

Isobel giggled loudly, while the barman's unnaturally large ears flushed red. He fixed the drinks, pouring from numerous bottles into two huge, straight glasses. When he'd finished he slammed them down on the counter and moved sulkily to the opposite end of the bar. Isobel grabbed her drink urgently and gulped it down in one, following it up with a loud, protracted burp.

'Er, would you like another?' Bob asked.

'Gee, thanks!' said Isobel, and she downed Bob's drink too. She burped again and ran the back of her hand across her lips in satisfaction. 'Say, let's split this joint,' she said suddenly. 'And go back to my place for some real fun.'

She jumped from her stool with a loud thud, and Bob noticed that she only had one leg, the other was made of wood. 'Nighty night Hank!' she said, grabbing Bob's fin and hobbling out of the bar, making a huge racket on the floor with her false leg. Outside, Colin was still stuck in the grating and didn't notice as Bob left with his new lady friend.

'You and me are gonna have a ball!' Isobel said excitedly, as she sauntered awkwardly along the sidewalk with Bob, before stopping outside a grocery store. 'I just gotta get a couple o' things, my little fishy friend. Don't you go away, now!' When she emerged five minutes later she was carrying a bag of potatoes and a box of eggs.

Soon they were at Isobel's apartment. Curiously, the smell of fish hung in the air, but all Bob thought was how homey it made the place feel. She fixed him a scotch on the rocks, whatever that was.

'You make yourself comfortable,' she said, dimming the lights. 'I got a few things to organise.' She left Bob stretched out on the sofa, sipping his drink, happy in anticipation of the evening ahead. But, instead of going to her bedroom as Bob had expected, she went through to the kitchen. Bob heard the clanging of pots, then the sounds of a mixer whirring away.

Meanwhile, back at the bar, a confused and disorientated Colin had freed himself and was looking for Bob in the bar.

'That the fish that was in here earlier?' said the barman. 'He left with Isobel, and if you ask me, that ain't a wise thing to do. When you leave with Isobel, you don't come back.'

Soon the sounds from the kitchen stopped, and Isobel returned to Bob. She was wearing an apron over her dress, spattered with flour and egg stains.

'What have you been doing?' Bob asked innocently.

Isobel's voice had lost much of it's sweetness. 'Never mind that, my little fishy friend,' she said. 'I'm ready for you now.'

Before Bob could do anything, Isobel picked him up by the tail and took him into the kitchen. Bob could hardly believe his eyes. There were fish guts all over the place; up the wall, even on the ceiling. On the stove was a huge pan of hot fat, bubbling away gently. Next to it was a bowl full of batter and a plate piled high with freshly cut chips.

She lifted up Bob and spoke to him, face to face. 'You know,' she said, 'it's a strange thing. Ever since my leg was bitten off by a shark I've had this weird thing about fish. You know what I mean?'

Bob had finally realised what was happening, but it was too late.

Colin the Crab was the hero that day, but his achievement was subsumed by the grief that followed. He burst in on Isobel just as she was starting on the chips. In a blind rage he crab-snipped her into unconsciousness before turning his attention to his friend. Bob had already been in the fryer for three minutes before Colin fished him out, and he was beyond saving.

Colin bought Bob home, wrapped up in a grease-stained newspaper, where he was laid to rest. The Queen (who had Bob to thank for having a head) and the Prime Minister (who had Bob to thank for saving the country - and the world - from Cheese Girl) attended the funeral, along with hundreds of other distinguished guests. Curiously, one person stuck out from the crowd, principally because he was the only person in white. He was a crazy haired, eccentric professor, wearing a lab coat and making detailed notes in a book during the funeral. Colin noticed him, but was too grief-stricken to care.

Two days of national mourning were declared, thereafter the world went about it's business. A world improved by the intervention of a brave fish, whose only concern was for the welfare of his inferiors; those he just happened to share a planet with.

Colin returned home alone and watched TV, though for once in his life he didn't appreciate the lack of interruption.