-P is for Piranhas-
READER, GET OUT OF HERE!
Come on, Reader- Piranhas?! Do you even know what these things are? I bet your friend, parent, or significant other just blubbered out something like “blohwell thur just river fish with teeth.” They are not just river fish with teeth! These are dangerous, deadly creatures, not because a school of these jerk’s’ll chew you into pieces in a matter of seconds, they actually hunt with poison, not swarms!
Number one thing about piranhas, they’re not actually fish, but quadrupedal land-dwellers roughly the size of an elephant. Their seven rows of teeth are all made from poisoned exploding knives that shoot out of their mouths and are armed with stealth fields and are completely silent and will totally blow you up if you picked a fight with them… No I’m joking.
They’re fish, and they’re around the size of your hand, but they definitely shoot poisoned teeth at you and eat you after your untimely demise. It’s tragic, so please, watch your step around the beaches of the United Kingdom and Western Europe- it’s super dangerous.
The only natural defense against piranhas are being cool. So… not really sure how to say this, Reader… but you have a little ways to go before you’re safe from piranhas. Of course, you could be plenty cool, but it’s unlikely you’re cool enough.
If you meet any of the following critera, you’re safe for the beach:
-You’re a practitioner of any martial art, particularly kung fu (or “cool fu”, either or.)
-You were born somewhere other than Earth (bonus points for a birth in deep space)
-You’re wearing aviators, or some sort of thin-rimmed glasses
-You’re a writer (Extra points for fantasy, crime, horror, or mystery genres)
-You play a sweet musical instrument (extra points if you’re currently playing it)
-You’re a cool hero of something. Firefighters, legendary heroes, veterans for cool armies, you know, cool people
-You’re a WombatIf you’re cool enough to meet all of these criteria, you could probably tell the piranhas what to do rather than just survive them. That’s almost impossible though, because you’d have to be a wombat writer born in space wearing aviators, among other things.