The other visitors to Sir Basil’s Zoo ignored the little tank. They were too busy marvelling at the seahorse and the octopus and the clownfish.

“Look! It’s the fish from Finding Nemo!” said one vicar.

“Is it the actual one from the film?” asked another.

Bob rested his head on the little tank, and peered in. As hard as he looked, he couldn’t spot the blobfish anywhere. Perhaps he was hiding behind a rock? Had he buried himself in the sand? Was he lurking in the murky water at the back of the tank? Was he shy? Was he frightened? Did he not like being stared at?

All Bob knew was that the blobfish seemed to be hiding.

Winston the zookeeper passed by the tank on his rounds.

“How are you enjoying yourself, Mr Bob?” he asked.

“I am having the best afternoon, thank you, Winston. I’ve seen so many interesting animals already.”

“Splendid, splendid, splendid.”

“But I can’t see this one.”

Winston put down the bucket of fish he was taking to the penguins. “No. Nobody ever does.”

“Is there definitely a fish in there?”

“Definitely, Mr Bob. But I am sorry to say the blobfish hides himself away.”

“Why?”

“A couple of years ago, a little girl visited the zoo. When she saw Blob she screamed and projectile-vomited. At the same time.”

“Oh no.”

“Yes. I had to clean the girl’s lunch off the tank. She’d eaten Alphabetti spaghetti. The glass looked like a Scrabble set had exploded all over it.”

Indeed, there was a sign now which read:

NO PROJECTILE-VOMITING ON THE GLASS.

“So what happened to the blobfish?”

“The poor little thing was obviously frightened. He hid at the very back of his tank and was never seen again. He won’t even eat the food I drop in for him until the dead of night when the zoo is empty.”

“That’s sad.”

“That it is, Mr Bob. I fear you’re wasting your time waiting to see that one.”

“But I really want to see what a blobfish looks like.”

“Good luck, Mr Bob!” said the old man over his shoulder as he left.

Bob wouldn’t give up. He waited. And waited. And waited. And then he waited some more.

After an hour, the boy was ready to give up when he noticed another sign at the bottom of the tank. It read:

DO NOT TAP ON THE GLASS!

Like most children (and some grown-ups), when Bob was told NOT to do something, it made him want to do it all the more.^fn1

^fn1 Just like seeing these signs often makes you want to do the opposite:

In fact, before seeing the “DO NOT TAP ON THE GLASS” sign, Bob had not thought of doing such a thing. It hadn’t even crossed his mind. Now he had an overwhelming desire to do it. Bob was curious. What would happen if he tapped on the glass? Would it shatter? Would the zoo self-destruct? Would the world end? There was only one way to find out.

Bob glanced left and right to check no one was looking. Then slowly the boy lifted his knuckles to the tank.

Nothing stirred.

Again nothing.

Bob put his face right up against the tank and peered into the murky water. From the other side of the thick glass he must have looked quite a sight, his funny face flattened against it.

At the very back of the tank, Bob could just make out something stirring. It was faint at first – a swirl of water and sand – and then out of the shadows a face appeared.

It was the ugliest face Bob had ever seen. And he had seen some ugly faces – his family photograph album was full of them.

screamed the boy.

The blobfish must have been scared too, at the sight of this squashed nose and mouth, and the big bulging eyes staring back at him. The fish’s mouth opened and a giant bubble of air burst out. His eyes widened in terror before he retreated to the far side of the tank.

The pair had frightened the life out of each other.