WARNING: This post involves mockery and Robert Pattinson. If you can’t tell the difference between mocking a PHOTO and mocking HIM, please stop reading this post right now. If you have yet to develop a sense of humor, or if your love of one Robert Pattinson has permanently impaired your sense of humor, please stop reading this post right now. You have been WARNED.
Hello. I’m Andy the Alligator. I’m here to tell you today how I became so disgruntled.
So one day I was hanging out in the bayou, in no way planning on eating the first human to wander too close, when this crazy lady comes and captures me. Well now I am feeling quite put out, as I’m sure you can imagine. But then I started thinking about a cozy life at the zoo and how I would never have to talk to that asshole Chris who always steals my kills from under the log. (The log is CLEARLY in my territory Chris, you asshole!)
I was soon transported to my new home, which turned out to be a shack in the bayou. I found this to be disappointing as I was by now quite ensconced in my daydreams about all the fresh meat I could devour, conveniently delivered to my Chris-free enclosure (that asshole). There was much standing about then and I was largely forgotten for a long time, during which I very pointedly did not think about what human leg tastes like.
The crazy lady returned and suddenly I recognized her. She was that photographer that wanted to photograph the eighty-year-old Queen of England on a horse inside Buckingham Palace. We all had a good laugh over that in my bayou, except for that asshole Chris because he’s an uncouth layabout with no manners or appreciation for stately institutions such as the British monarchy. I tried to express my admiration to the photographer but I’m afraid I must have made the spitting noise, for she shrieked and ran away.
Finally, after much time spent basking in a warm sunny spot, I was transported outside. I’ll tell you, I could get used to having a team of humans carry me everywhere. I felt like Cleopatra! However, once outside it became clear that I would not be left to do more basking, but that instead I was to be part of the photoshoot. Well this was very exciting. I always like reading the magazines from the tourist boats we overrun in the bayou, and now I would get to be in one! I was just sorry that that asshole Chris wasn’t here to see my moment in the spotlight.
That was when I noticed that handsome young actor that’s in all the magazines. I was just overcome once I saw him. I am such a fan and let me tell you, I like nothing more than this young fellow dressed in a well-made suit, not even imagining how he might taste after marinating for several days under the log. Because I never ever think about that. No. Then I just had to go right up to him and express my sincere admiration, but I’m afraid I made the growling noise, because he turned dead white and ran away.
Well you can imagine it took some time to get him calmed down, but eventually he came back and we got on with the shoot. I was a little confused as to why he was dressed like an Amish farmer in the middle of the Louisiana bayou, but then, this photoshoot was being run by the same lady that wanted to photograph the eighty-year-old Queen on a stallion inside a palace. Not even that asshole Chris has ideas quite that bad, and he has some really lousy ideas, like trying to break into houses.
I was picturing all kinds of scenes in which the handsome actor and I frolic in the bayou together. I imagined demonstrating my superb death roll technique—not because I dream of dragging a human into the murky depths with me, but because I just knew the sight of me rolling and rolling would impress everyone ever so much. I am, after all, a perfect death machine, a predator that so excels at killing that I have not evolved in millions of years. Not that I’m boasting. I leave that to that asshole Chris. In the end, none of these things happened. No, in the end, I was hoisted onto the young fellow’s shoulders like a common stole and made to hang there while the crazy lady took these crazy photos.
And that’s how I became disgruntled.