Although the cichlids are a gruff, no-nonsense sort, fifteen of them have agreed to live together in reasonable peace—despite the concerns of the plant neighbors. Unfortunately, one of the neighbors, Brutus, already has a criminal record (the neighbors who live in the tall plant are a bit smug about the situation confirming their initial worry). Despite Brutus’s criminal history, authorities attempted to work with him, but he has been too intent on becoming the neighborhood’s food and space cartel. Instead of letting it get out of control, authorities have put the brute in solitary confinement. He is awaiting transfer to his old neighborhood. Grateful for the authorities’ quick response to the violence, most of the residents seek regular conversation with authorities whenever they happen to be nearby.

–The Bubbly Review

A year after the murder spree, the watery landscape of the so far doomed neighborhood was reconstructed. The architects scrapped everything, including the beautiful black gravel, which was replaced by dazzling white rock. Contractors waited a week before selling the properties to a large community of African cichlids. Some are concerned that the number of residents will overwhelm the available space, but they have been assured that the sixteen cichlids have enough room and, because of their number, will be less violent to one another. We’ll see if that optimism is foolish or not.

—The Bubbly Review

The last resident of the watery neighborhood has unexpectedly passed away. When the murdering spree swept through the residents, the brave, resilient, and solitary Marble survived for another six months. The funeral was this morning. Marble is not survived by any friends or family. The hazmat control team has scheduled the neighborhood for demolition tomorrow.

–The Bubbly Review

After the plea for information, a reward was posted, and no more cardinals disappeared. Instead, police found their corpses at the bottom of the tank. To make this story shorter, we’ll just recap: first, there were 10, then 9, then 8, then 5, and (seriously) then there were four. Finally, there were none.

 One of the rams, Napoleon, tired of the inept authorities, took it upon himself to find the culprit. He was found stuck in a hole. The new community doctor attempted to keep him alive, but he died later that day. His ram friends mourned him—staring into his home with sad, swishing fins. They died shortly after, though whether it was from grief or the mysterious killer trying to cover his tracks, we don’t know.

 Three female bettas joined the neighborhood and lived there peacefully for six months before being murdered in the night. In frustration, the authorities tore the empty neighborhood down until only a hollow glass shell remained. To this day, the killer is still unknown. These horrible crimes cannot be solved now that the neighborhood has been torn down, but the details are on file in the Department of Knowledge in the section The Authorities are Total Failures.

—The Bubbly Review

It all started with the suspicion that Ethereal had contracted hookworm. He was relocated to a smaller home where he was the only resident. It turned out his problem was age, but since he had a hard time breathing in the depths of the neighborhood, his solitary life was permanent until his death. He was not friendly toward the authorities after his move.

Although Ethereal was not sick, the Cardinals were–they’d hidden it well for months. When the authorities noticed that all the cardinals had contracted ick, they medicated immediately. The anxious authorities observed the neighbors, making sure the contagion had been eradicated.

One day a cardinal mysteriously disappeared. The next day a second. Authorities uprooted the neighborhood, trying to find them. After a thorough search, investigators informed the press that it was apparent that the Cardinals were victims of an unknown body snatcher. A reward is being offered for any information on suspicious behavior. So far, silence has reigned.

—The Bubbly Review