Thursday, June 21, 2007

“The crocodiles are friendly”

June 18, 2007

Paga, Ghana.

Let me tell you something about crocodiles. We are not tame, despite what the dipshit tour guide told you. We are not “friendly.” We are pissed off. Wouldn’t you be?

Think of it: we’ve been living on this planet, perhaps in this very pond, since long before the ancestors of you fleshy pink primates climbed down from the trees and stood on their hind legs. We’re cousins with the dinosaurs, for God’s sake. We predate mammals by millennia.

You might think such elder status might engender some respect in you more junior species, but noooooo. You smartypantses got to be entertained. So you pay these local black-skinned brethren of yours to call us from our lagoon, so that we may suffer indignity for your viewing pleasure.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ll take the chicken. Nothing better than live meat, even if these are the scrawniest fowl I’ve ever snapped. If that pathetic squawking is making you uncomfortable I’ll be happy to end it, if you’d just tell the guide to…


Yeah. Mouthful of feathers. A little gamey, especially the legs, but succulent, succulent. Where was I?

Ah yes. The asshole griping my tail has reminded me: I’m working. It is my job to be on display like a circus freak or one of those slaves lying in a zoo for humans like you to ogle. Well, go ahead: take your photographs.

I’ll have you know, though, that I could lash around faster than you could blink and take this guy’s hand off at the elbow. So just think about that as you ponder his invitation to come and sit on me for a photo.

Sit on me. Can you believe it? And people do, they come pose on top of me. They know I won’t hurt them. Last croc from the lagoon who shredded a human wound up as a pair of boots with matching belt. No thanks. Although I must admit, every croc has his breaking point…

But I see you don’t have the guts. I also see that there will be no more tasty morsels on offer today. Very well. This is the part of the tour where I slither back into the lagoon, and you take off, get lost, go do… whatever it is you humans do when you’re not busy demeaning a miracle of planetary biology that has survived ice ages relatively unchanged.

It’s been fun. Next time bring more chicken. (G)

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