So a couple of my Africans (those are fish, by the way) decided to get it on the other day, and pretty soon they were the glowing (and I mean glowing in red and blue) parents of several hundred adorable embyonic Jewel Cichlids.  Or, as they are affectionately known to fish of other species, All-You-Can-Eat-Babies!  Yum!

Now it should be noted that these little lovers were once kings of the tank, but it turns out that Jewel Cichlids are relatively shy and docile compared to Convicts and Malawi Cichlids, the latter of whom ate every living thing smaller than a quarter (which included about a hundred inbred guppies).  Long story short:  the Jewels are now the smallest fish in the tank, and on the very last rung of the complex social ladder that the fish have painstakingly sorted out for themselves.  So the choice of having a brood of All-You-Can-Eat-Babies was a little bit ill-considered, perhaps, especially since Africans are loving parents (seriously) and they do actually care when their babies start getting gobbled up by the dozens.

Needless to say, there was some fighting.  More accurately, a few attempted murders and some general brawling by other fish who were just a little too stoked because of all the sex and violence happening around them.  After about 12 hours of this, one Convict lay wounded and dying, and the scarred lovers were too exhausted to continue. 

At this point, the Pleco, a big armoured catfish that is related to Cichlids in approximately the way that a Rhinoceros is related to humans, cruised up and in a few quick gulps, wolfed down all the eggs.  The poor parents were too tired to object, and so ended the tragic saga.  But tragic as it all is, it has given me cause to consider that my problems really aren't that big in the scheme of things.