The Most Dangerous Game II: Avenging Cecil


Author’s note: Please enjoy this stock photo of a golden, statuesque lion. I refuse to re-post the photo of the douchebag dentist who shot and killed 13-year-old Cecil, a beloved lion who lived in a Namibian national park. Every time I encounter that photo of smug, paunchy white guys smirking atop a bloodied, majestic carcass, I want to puke, punch my computer screen, or invest in a bow and arrow and head to the Land of 10,000 Lakes in search of vigilante justice.

When I snuggled up with my laptop last night, I aimed to write a poetic essay about the slaughter of wild animals and our responsibility to the planet, with a little moral outrage and light politicking thrown in for good measure. But, I realized quickly, that essay was going to be a total drag to write and an even bigger drag to read.

Instead, I’ve decided to GIVE THE PEOPLE WHAT THEY WANT! And by “the people,” I mean one super brave, courageous and macho dentist from Minnesota. That’s right, Walter James Palmer, this post’s for you! I can tell you’re a guy who likes a challenge. You’re a sportsman with a can-do attitude and a Cabela’s platinum card nestled in your crocodile skin wallet. A man like you needs to feel important. Powerful. And I’m here to help. It’s time we take the volume dial of your life and crank it to 11.

Walt, buddy, let’s face it. Lions are nature’s biggest pussies. Especially a friendly lion like Cecil. He was well known to act peaceful and almost tame around humans. He was–at the risk of mixing metaphors–a sitting duck. Besides, it’s not like a lion can pick up a weapon and fight back; where’s the fun in that, Wally? Sure, they have sharp teeth and claws. But when you’re luring them out of their comfort zone and targeting them from dozens of yards away, it’s not like they can cause you any real harm, amiright?


The girls in his 7th grade class called him El Guapo. How times have changed.

If it’s true “big game” hunting you seek, why limit yourself to such lesser species?? Human hunting has a fascinating and storied mythology, and Walter James Palmer, YOUR name belongs in that canon. May I suggest that you set your sights on El Chapo, the recently escaped kingpin of the Sinaloa drug cartel. Picture this: a firefight unfolds within the gritty and exotic tunnels of Mexico City…. is that blood splattered on your face, or just sewage? Either way, it’s a guaranteed adrenaline rush! Plus, if you go rogue and take down El Chapo, you’ll be fostering inter-governmental harmony between the U.S. and our pals south of the border. Win-win!


This is the “Welcome, Walter” parade organized by Boko Haram’s congeniality corps.

If cocaine and burritos aren’t your bag, fear not. It’s time to collect a Nigeria stamp in your passport, Mister, because you’re headed to the wild frontier home of Abubakar Shekau, the fearsome leader of Boko Haram. This guy’s taxidermied mug would be a worthy trophy for your suburban dentist office’s wall. He makes Suge Knight look like Kesha Knight Pulliam! Here’s how it’ll play out: after a five-star meal at Izanagi (Lagos’ top-rated restaurant,) you’ll be blindfolded and transported into the bush in the back of a 4×4 pickup, then dumped into a pile of dung with nothing but a compass and the weapon of your choice. You’re on your own in some of the most lawless, violent country in the world. What a thrill! For added fun, masquerade as a school girl! There’s no telling what adventures await once you don a colorful dress and a shoulder bag full of math textbooks!


No cage for you, Walter!

What’s that you say? Boko Haram feels too tame? Let’s return, then, to sport within the animal kingdom. I’ve had to pull some strings to organize this next enchanting possibility, but I think it’ll be worth it. First, I tracked down Franc Fernandez, designer of Lady Gaga’s storied meat dress. He has agreed to create for you–wait for it–a scuba diving costume composed entirely of rotting lamb chops. After a wine tasting tour of South Africa, you’ll shimmy into that muttony wetsuit and be escorted by catamaran to the pre-determined drop site off the coast of Gansbaai. There, you’ll go for a leisurely swim in a charming little channel that locals refer to as “Shark Alley.” Bon voyage!

Should you survive your swim and still clamor for more, I offer you this final travel tip: Syria. I hear it’s gorgeous this time of year. Ask for my friend Isis. She’s a hoot.

13 thoughts on “The Most Dangerous Game II: Avenging Cecil

  1. Pingback: Cecil’s death | profjoseandre

  2. Kudos!!!!!! I am so tired of having to look at dead animals in restaurants. What the hell? What an ego! Should I stuff and display on my kitchen walls the mice or birds that my cat and his feline friend leave for me at my back door. Oh, I know, how about he crane, possum, or squirrels that our Great Dane killed in our back yard? They would make a lovely display to view for your dining pleasure. I also see them in some privately owned stores, guess they ran out of room in their homes or maybe their wives threatened to shoot and stuff them if they brought another one home. Ah, such is the life of a Texas girl.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Yep. Nothing says ‘macho’ here in Texas like taking some harmless unsuspecting animal for fun out of their environment and onto your wall for decoration. Even better, if you posed it in some terrifying fashion to others a slanted picture of how you ‘achieved’ your success. Yeah. Macho.

      Liked by 1 person

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