Five Animals I Wouldn't Want To Fight (and how I would fight them if I had to)

By Hunter Burgan

     I'd like to stress that as a vegan and animal lover, there are almost no circumstances under which I would ever harm a living creature. The following situations and techniques are for the exception to that rule. These are to be assumed as "life or death" situations.

1. Grizzly Bear - Since most bears can outrun any human (even Carl Lewis) and they typically disembowel their victims, the key to fighting a grizzly bear is to distract it, then incapacitate it. To distract it, I would employ the use of a laser. No laser pointer or laser sight is enough to do the trick, however. I'm talking about a laser light show. Pink Floyd style. I seem to recall seeing a travel size version of this at Guitar Center. Don't correct me if I'm wrong. Once the bear is distracted, I would knock it on the head with a bowling ball. A 14 lb. ball (or heavier) will do the trick. Don't go into battle with one of those hot pink 8 lb. balls they have at the bowling alley unless you want your guts spread all around the forest. One or two hits to the head should be enough to render the bear unconscious. Remember, I'm not trying to kill the poor creature, just protect myself from imminent death.

2. Shark - Once a shark gets a taste of your blood, it will eat you. That's just a fact. Make a note to never serve hors d'oeuvres made from your own blood at a party that sharks will be attending. Since the vast majority of shark fights take place underwater, let's assume that for my shark fight, I'm also underwater. Let's also assume that I'm wearing military grade scuba gear. The gear would of course be state of the art and I would look really good wearing it (I'm hoping I will get some sort of scuba gear sponsorship out of this.) Now on to the fight. Sharks are just mouths that can swim, but those mouths are filled with thousands of razor sharp teeth. I imagine that (once again, don't correct me if I'm wrong) with enough peanut butter, you could make the shark's mouth stick together. It would take more than just a jar of Skippy and a spoon though. I would need something that sprays a high volume of peanut butter at a high velocity underwater. We'll call this device the Peanut Blaster™. (If any food-weaponry companies out there want to manufacture the Peanut Blaster™, get in touch with my lawyer and we'll work something out. I have detailed schematics in my head.) A shark fight is that simple. I'll blast the shark in the mouth with the Peanut Blaster™ set to "stun" and then swim away in my new scuba gear.

3. Tyrannosaurus Rex - Fighting a T. Rex requires encountering one, and that requires owning a time machine, which I do. However, I think this unique set of circumstances raises the question, "Why fight a T. Rex when you could just travel to a time of obvious safety instead?" Normally I would do just that, travel forward or backward through time to avoid a T. Rex fight. But what if the time machine was damaged by a clumsy Diplodocus? I would have no other choice than to fight a T. Rex if cornered. Since T. Rexes' teeth can crush bone, and they have binocular vision, comparable or better than modern hawks, I would have to avoid being seen in order to avoid being eaten. I would quickly dress in camouflage to avoid being seen. I prefer pink and grey camouflage if available, since it's a fact that all dinosaurs are color blind (okay, it's not a fact, it's my theory.) Then I would sneak up behind the T. Rex and, with a jack hammer, break one of his tibias before he is able to turn around. T. Rexes are notoriously slow at turning around. Hopefully this would buy enough time to fix my time machine. If not, I would resort to blinding him with the Peanut Blaster™.

4. Lion - Lions are the rightful kings of the jungle, and I would never attempt to fight a king in his own kingdom. So let's just say, in the the spirit of equity, that the lion is in my kitchen. Normally I would use a similar technique for lions, tigers and bears- the laser/bowling ball combo. Since you've already heard me explain that one, I'll illustrate another technique. I call this one Plan B. Plan B consists of two things: 1. The element of surprise, and 2. Piping hot soup. I always keep a a large (but light-weight) cauldron of piping hot soup in my kitchen, usually split pea, or some type of vegan bisque. In order to surprise the lion, I will need to do something it would never expect. First I would turn my stereo on full blast. Lenny Kravitz's "Are You Gonna Go My Way?" is the song of choice when fighting lions. The intensity of Lenny's guitar riff during the intro might be enough to surprise the lion, but I wouldn't stop there. Next I would turn off all the lights except for the strobe light above the stove. While the lion is recovering from this confusing change of scene, I would knock over the cauldron of soup, effectively covering the floor, making it hot and slippery. Finally, I would swing down from atop the fridge on a rope made of hemp and kick the lion back into a pit. If you're going to try this technique at home (which I highly recommend) you may want to dig a pit in your kitchen like I have. Taking care of this in advance will ensure that you are ready for almost any wild mammal attacks in your home. I have covered my pit with a few leafy branches and most days I don't even notice it.

5. Cobra - Can you outrun a cobra? My guess is no. Even if you're fast, eventually you may have to fight a cobra. Here's what I would do if I had to fight one. First I would check to see if it's a spitting cobra. Spitting (like yawning) is contagious. Pay close attention to the dugout at a professional baseball game for an example of this phenomenon. If I spit over to my right and the cobra does nothing, I know it's safe to approach with a hockey stick covered in molasses. Cobras love molasses (as always, don't correct me if I'm wrong) and will be trying to lick the hockey stick the whole time I'm pummeling the poor creature. Case closed. However, if I spit over to the right and the cobra spits over to its right, I know I've got a spitting cobra on my hands and all bets are off. The Peanut Blaster™ is useless against snakes, as are most soups and strobes. Lasers are mildly effective, but require precise positioning, which is often hard to do with little or no time in such a stressful situation. Your best bet, and what I would do, is quickly build a fire. Snakes hate fire (as demonstrated in Indiana Jones films) and will either retreat to look for supplies to make smores, or become aggressively hostile. If the latter is the case, I would let the cobra chase me into a hall of mirrors. Cobras may be deadly, but they're not that smart. I'm sure I could trick the cobra into attacking my reflection enough times that it would eventually grow weary and give up.

     Hopefully we will all be lucky enough to never have to fight these animals. Normally this is where you would find a legal disclaimer, warning you to never fight animals and to never use my techniques. You'll find no disclaimer here, just this warning: If you happen to find yourself face to face with one of these formidable creatures and DO NOT use my techniques, you're as good as dead, and I will not visit your grave!


Originally published at TranquilMammoth.com on January 1, 2009.