Fish heads are in fact, at this point (more or less) OOZING throughout the slime. In fact, I'd say that the heads of fishes--if they can be said to do so at all--are traveling much the way a highly viscous liquid would in their situation--by OOZING; and they're doing that right where a whole bunch of slime has appears to have located itself. This slime, by the way, is located at a ³hot spot² where a certain activity, most easily described as OOZING, is being undertaken by some disembodied heads once belonging to certain ichtyological specimens.
For it is these very fish that we concern ourselves with here. Due to their bodyless circumstance, the fish's former heads are free to do as they please; and what these frontmost segments seem to have chosen to do (whether or not they actually have chosen is another matter--perhaps they, in the largest sense, had no choice) is to OOZE--beginning on one side of the slime and ending up emerging from the opposite side. Where does that leave us? Well, on the far end of the slime, where a number of fish heads loiter about, having OOZED over from the other side.
And the fish bodies? To the extent that they can be said to be bodies, bereft of heads, they remain, nonetheless, irrelevant: where they are is unimportant, even trivial to us as we track the oozing fish fragments along their journey through the slime. For a moment, fish heads and slime mingle, oblivious to their difference from one another, before the heads move on, changing only their location--their distance from their former bodies. Which body goes with which head? We can only wonder, and don't even bother. Who cares now that the heads have oozed more or less through the best part of the slime, completing what we can only hope is their entire journey? Whither heads, bodies, once the slime shore has been achieved? Fish heads, oozing through the slime, must have done so only to arrive here, for all we know.
Slime. It's not a pretty thought. And it's not a pretty sight, now that heads that once belonged to fish are OOZING through it. It was slimy--even gooey--enough before the heads arrived, their scaly slimy ooze at first trickling, then bubbling, and now almost gushing (as much as something that only OOZES can be said to gush) throughout every nook and cranny of the slime--if slime can be said to have nooks and crannies. The slime looks as though it had plopped down onto the ground in a sticky, glistening lump and then spread out unevenly to cover the immediate area with its gooey translucent self. But now fish heads have managed to find their way through the slime in their own semi-liquidy way. They didn't merely ooze over the slime or around it; it was almost as if they had consciously searched for a path right through the slime, between--well I guess between some of the slime and some of the rest of the slime. It became difficult, during this process, to see the scales and eyes and big fish lips oozing through the slime because they were underneath and in between translucent goop all the way. They only became visible once they had made their way completely through the slime and ended up coming out the other side--each deposited on the ground with a dull thud, as if the slime had ejected it.
In conclusion, fish heads, surprisingly enough, did something somewhat unusual. Seeming to act independently of the fish bodies to which they once belonged, they OOZED all the way through a substance that we can all agree is about as slimy as they come.