text: "You know there are cleaner shrimp?" she asked. "Cleaner than what?" he asked. "No, they are called cleaner shrimp because they clean parasites from fish. Do you know why they call them cleaner fish?" she asked. "Because they're the cleanest," he said. "That's funny," she said. "You're the smart one," he said. "Yes, I am smart," she said. "I'm the Jerry Lewis to your Dean Martin," he said. "So the shrimp and the fish have a symbiotic relationship where they help each other. The shrimp gets to eat parasites, and the fish get to be parasite-free," she said. "Okay, that's pretty well-known in the scientific community anyway. But I was thinking about these shrimp in the Caribbean who clean parrotfish." "Is this a pirate joke?" he said. "No," she said. "The Caribbean and parrots make me think of pirates," he said. "Sorry." "So these parrotfish would normally eat shrimp. I mean, researchers actually chopped up shrimp and threw them at the fish, and they gobbled them up," she said. "So they think what happens is that the shrimp wave their antenna at the fish to say I'm going to clean you. And then the fish turns dark to say, hey, come clean me. I won't eat you." "Turns dark?" he asked. "Yeah, because of chromatophores and iridophores," she sighed. "Long story short, they can change color when stressed or hormonal when breeding or with the season or camouflage. They turn a darker color and welcome the shrimp to clean even inside their mouths. It's like a cat with a mouse cleaning its fangs." "What's this about?" he asked. "I don't know," she said. "It's interesting." "I guess," he said. "I mean, it's fascinating that at one point a fish would eat these shrimp, and at another point, they let them groom them, in the most intimate places like inside their mouth," she said. "Yeah," he says. "Do fish have intimate places, or do they know what intimacy is?" "Do you know what intimacy is?" she asks. "I could show you," he said. "No," she said. "I'm thinking." "Okay, what is the point of this conversation?" he asked. "I just like the idea of being mortal enemies becoming friends," she said. "Are they friends, or does the shrimp work for the fish?" he asked. "Well, if you're working together, it's friendly," she said. "Right," he said. "Like Tabitha," she said." I love her, and she loves me, but if I were the size of a mouse, she would eat me." "Well, she is a cat," he said. "I know," she said. "Of course, she is a cat." "Right," he said. "I love her," she said. "I know you do," he said. "I love her too. Of course." "So let me ask you a question: would you rather be the shrimp or the fish?" she asked. "Do I have to?" he asked. "Yes," she said. "No jokes?" he asked. "No jokes," she said. "Would I rather be cleaned or be the cleaner?" he asked. "Indeed," she said. "I would rather be the cat," he said. "Hilarious," she said. "Well, you do love cats," he said. "So, back to the question, would you rather be a cleaner or be cleaned?" she asked. "So that's the point of all this?" he asked. "To be cleaned or not to be cleaned." "That is the question," she said. "I'd rather not be dirty," he said. "Is that your answer?" she said. "It is an answer," he said. "Do you feel dirty?" she said. "Not when I am clean," he said. "Seriously," she said. "So the shrimp is cleaning the fish because it's hungry. The fish could have eaten the shrimp but it doesn't because it doesn't like parasites, right?" he said. "Why does the shrimp trust the fish?" "Because it turns a dark color," she said. "So the shrimp just knows this is a welcoming color," he said. "Yes," she said. "And it just goes in its mouth," he said. "Yes," she said. "I don't know," he said. "Why is it always so hard with you?" she said. "What is the question?" he asked. "Are you the shrimp or the fish?" she said. "Why does it matter?" he asked. "It just does," she said. "Why?" he said. "I just want to have a normal conversation with you," she said. "This is normal? Okay, okay. I'd obviously rather be the fish," he said. "I don't want to be the shrimp." "Why?" she said. "Because the shrimp could easily be eaten, the parrotfish could change its mind anytime," he said. "At any time?" she asked. "Yeah, after the parasites are gone, it might get hungry," he said. "That's nice," she said. "What?" he asked. "You eat shrimp." "I don't know those shrimp," she said. "That makes it okay?" he asked. "It makes it different," she said. 'So you only eat strangers," he said. "Correct," she said. What's wrong with that?" she asked. "Nothing," he said. "You shouldn't eat strangers," she said. "Okay," he said. "Why can't the fish and the shrimp just be friends? Why can't you be friends with the shrimp?" she said. "Me?" he asked. "Yes, you're the fish," she said. "This is silly," he said. "No, it's not," she said. "I want to know why after the shrimp spends all day cleaning your body, every crevice of your entire body, you could possibly turn around and eat it." "Because I'm a fish, and it's a shrimp. We are sea creatures. We have to eat to live," he said. "I'd rather die than eat someone who takes care of me," she said. "Someone who has been in my mouth." "So you're a shrimp," he said. "I'm not," she said. "Well, are you a parrotfish?" he asked. "Absolutely not," she said. "So you're a shrimp," he said. "I guess I am," she said. "Great," he said. "Yeah, I guess," she said. "Want to watch something," he said. "Okay," she says. "Parrots of the Caribbean?" he asked. “Get it.” "Not funny," she said. "It's a little funny," he said.