Conversations can kill.

Conversation:

“Babe, there's a baby crab in the sink.”

“Hellwo, can me take your order now?”

“Stop it! There is a Real crab in the sink!”

“Me tink you got dee wrong number.”

“Are you listening to me?”

“Yeah, I'm listening. You got crabs.”

“Yes. I started washing the dishes and I thought it was a spider.”

“That means I got em too.”

“What? Ok, Forget it.”

“No, what sink?”

“I was doing the dishes so….”

“Well, pick it up.”

“And do what?”

“I dunno. Get rid of it.”

“I don’t want to kill it.”

“Ok so put it in a jar.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want it to pinch me.”

“So pick it up by the back legs.”

“Oh wait, it stopped moving.”

“Dead?”

“I think… yeah, its dead.”

"Alright then, I love you but, I got to go."

"Yeah, bye."

"Ok...love you....LOVE YOU."

"Yup."

"Talk to you later. I love you. Bye."

Funeral services will be held at 6:00 p.m. at the porcelain well.
To think our conversation killed a crabling.
Watching the critter curl up in it's stainless steel tomb,
I decided it would be nice if his memory was immortalized.
Here's to you crabling, may you enjoy sleeping with the fishes.