Facts About Alligators

Alligators travel in packs. Not many people know that. Scientists don't know that. Zoologist scientists, even.
It's true. Alligators travel in packs. They're like wolves that way. Why do people say “lone wolf”? A wolf is part of a pack. A wolf is never alone. In my humble opinion, “lone wolf” is a stupid expression that only idiots use. People should say “lone crocodile”. Crocodiles travel alone. Crocodiles are NOT part of any pack. That's the main difference between crocodiles and alligators.
That and pupil diameter.
Did you know that a pack of alligators can strip the meat off a cow in less time than it takes a person to go to college?
It's true. They're hungry beasts. Although calling them “beasts” isn't rightly fair. They have a hierarchy, and in my book, any creature smart enough to recognize and enforce a hierarchy is pretty damn civilized.
They don't use currency, though. That's the main difference between alligators and humans. Humans exchange money for goods and services. And for sex, which should be a bit of both if you're doin' it right.
Instead of “money”, as is the street term for currency, alligators exchange death. When alligators want something they get it. If they want it from something that won't give it up, they kill that something. If an alligator doesn't get what it wants, that's because it's dead.
That or it's just changed its mind. Alligators are very fickle, you see. That's the main difference between alligators and Japanese fighting beetles. A Japanese fighting beetle picks one happiness to pursue, and continues pursuing that happiness to the grave. Sometimes a Japanese fighting beetle will want something easy, like the recognition of its peers. Once it has that, it dies, having lived a short and pleasant life, culminating in a profound public speech, or award of some kind, or something like that. Sometimes a Japanese fighting beetle will want something difficult like a single cranberry from a specific kind of scone that only one family-owned shop in London sells. When Japanese fighting beetles want something this specific and complicated, they can live for up to 400 years, with a few reported, but unverified, cases living even longer.
But i'm not here to talk about Japanese fighting beetles. I'm here to talk about Alligators.
Where was I?
Alligators... Alligators...
Alligators change their mind fairly frequently. The only time a person has survived an alligator attack is when the alligator changed its mind mid-fight. Or mid-murder I should say. An unarmed man stands a snowball's chance in hell against a fully-grown bulligator.
However, that same unarmed man stands an ember's chance in heaven against a fully-grown cowligator, which sounds about the same, but is slightly better.
The trick is to watch the eyes.
An alligator's eyes will fixate on the object of their desire until that object is obtained.
If you see an alligator's eyes stray from any part of your body to any other object, you'll probably survive the confrontation, or attempted murder; again, whichever you prefer to call it.
If you look in an alligator's eyes, and he's lookin’ right back into yours, you're in for it brother. Better convert to the right religion in the next few seconds and shoot off a prayer or two.
If you look in the alligator's eyes and see a dull, void, expression, like that of one Mr. Jeffrey Dahmer, then you're outta luck and I can't help you. Even praying won't help you. What you're actually looking at is a crocodile. Crocodiles’ll kill you for no reason at all, because crocodiles are apathetic. They have no ulterior motivations.
That's the main difference between alligators and crocodiles.
Alligators coordinate with each other with an almost machine-like efficiency, as they work together towards the same goal. Alligators and machines are almost exactly the same, in fact.
To locate a pack with similar interests, an alligator will sift through corkboard postings and social-networking sites, until it finds the right group. Then the pack meets up and exchanges information. Afterwards, they perform a series of team-building exercises to inspire trust and loyalty, while simultaneously judging the strengths and weaknesses of each other. The trouble with all this is that alligators are fickle, so they're constantly changing teams and packs- I've already told you that alligators are fickle?
Well then.
I didn't mean to waste your time. Sorry about that. I don’t consider myself a time-waster. I'm just a simple man who likes to teach people about alligators.
For instance, alligators are hydrophobic. “Hydrophobic” means the queen alligators have snakes where their hair should be. And if you look into the eyes of the alligator queen, you turn to... I don't know, jelly or somethin'. The point is: don't do it.
This is the main difference between alligators queens and regular queens. And you'd better watch out, because unless there's someone making eye contact and NOT getting turned into jelly or somethin’, you'd better just assume ol' snake-hair standin’ over in the corner by herself is really an alligator queen and NOT the queen of England. Because there's no sure way to tell from the back, you understand.
Alligators prefer eating men, statistically. I'm not sure why, but I don't argue with science, and I'll never argue with an alligator. Cross my heart, I won't.
Alligator meat tastes like lizard. That's the main difference between alligators and eagles. Eagles taste like cowardice.
If an alligator finds out that you've been eating alligator (it can smell, you understand), his alligator pack will go into “hunt” mode. They'll locate the other members of that alligator's “weak” pack and murder them in cold-blood. Don't mistake my words; alligator's are all cold-blooded. What i'm meanin' to say that the hunter alligators will wait until the “weak” alligators are enjoying a nice family dinner or a friendly game of poker. Then the hunter alligators burst into the room and brutally murder all the “weak” alligators in a hailstorm of bullets from their tommy guns. It's an extremely bloody, loud, and violent event.
How do I know so much about alligators?
That’s an interesting story. I once heard an alligator say my name. Now I can't die and I think about them all the time. So you tell me what that means.

Club

Acid techno thumps.
Lasers race across the floor and over the dancing crowd. Colours in the black.
Sweat. The smell of humans.
Moving, shifting, grinding, undulating. Rhythm.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Everyone's clothing is tight, like skin. Your long coat is out of place here.
You make your way through the crowd, parting the sea with your presence.
Scan the large room.

There.

Second floor. Dancing with a girl.
Lasers illuminate their faces in colourful flashes.
She smiles. He smiles.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Bodies gyrating, swirling, heating.
She thinks he's human.

Remove your disruptor from its holster.

Move slowly up the stairs. Closer. Behind.
Dancing, smiling, seducing, touching, teasing, flirting, promising.
Sweat flings from other dancers onto your face.
She is enjoying him.
He is enjoying her.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Three rounds.

Collapse. Sparking.

Her face transitions through emotions.
Few other people notice.
Her eyes stand apart from the crowd.
Spinning limbs and bobbing heads frame her stationary face.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Dancing, thrusting, grasping, shifting, sliding, clutching.
Lasers wash over bodies in shifting patterns.
Move down the stairs. Through the crowd.

Out into the night.