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Everyone’s been at the zoo and thought they’d love to get in an enclosure and make friends with something that could kill them without fully standing up. If you’re reading this and aren’t using a computer by blowing into a tube, you’re smart enough not to have acted on that impulse.
Millions of years of natural selection have brought us to this point. An ability to decide to wear a seatbelt, to presume puffer fish doesn’t taste much better than tuna, and to keep our eyes down, mouth shut and allow Candy Halloween to buy her own drink.
Candy is clearly the kind of woman who would kick your teeth-in if you forgot to bring back 400 duty-free Marlboro Red from your daytrip to Calais. If you don’t know that just from looking at her I suggest you don’t risk going to see a baby Polar Bear. She’s a woman who strode through East London in 1993 (before the coffeeshops moved in) signalling to all via her bleached, blonde, pineapple haircut that an evening with her feels like skydiving. Blind terror followed by complete elation and a non-zero chance of ending up spread all over the pavement like a dropped kebab.
You wouldn’t dare. Would you …?