Rise up my fellow lobe-fins!
Grab your helmets!
Grab your weapons!
March to the shallows!
The land dwellers will fear the mighty Crossopterygian army!
Invade the beaches!
Fight your way through!
Every step inland is a victory!
From now on we will write history!
Wait a minute!
I can’t breathe!
Many died in those years.
They learned a lesson about the surface world.
Gills don’t work without water.
Some managed to get back to the safety of the shallows.
“This battle may have been won,” they said shaking their fins,
“But we will be back.”
“The war’s not over.”
Fish engineers decided to continue their search for the perfect weapon.
A few years back there was another invasion.
Sworn enemy of the fish,
Successfully colonized the land.
The fish were angry at hearing of this victory.
They swore never to let another humiliation like that happen again.
They made their fins shorter and their bodies bonier.
With every invasion,
With every push onto land,
With every loss of life,
The fish perfected their bodies.
Adapting to life on land.
Onward fishy soldiers!
Until the land is yours!
A new fish engineer had an idea.
He closed his gills and brought sacks of air out.
He called them lungs.
When he showed them to his brothers
They liked what they saw.
They adapted it.
With these new lungs the fish left their oceanic empire
Continuing to colonize.