Incidents with my tea that make me think I am in a picaresque novel

First, in order to fit it into the pan, I cut the tail off a flounder with a pair of scissors. The flounder was frozen so I had to use some force, and when the tail came off it flew back behind the cooker, so that I had to rummage around and retrieve it with a broom. When I'd done so, the tail on its own amongst the dust and balls of dog hair looked a bit like a seal's paw, and a bit like a human hand.

Then, once the fish was poached, I discovered that it had never been gutted. I'd assumed that the fishmonger had gutted it, and slung it straight in the freezer when I got home. When cooked it oozed blood and sat in a rusty pool on the plate. It was delicious, though.