Why I dislike lions.
When I was a young lad of 6, I found gainful employment riding sidecar with a daredevil-of-sorts. We would race around a giant circular roadway and entertain the public with our derring-do and hi-jinks.
But alas, my employer decided that something more exciting was needed. And so someone suggested a wild animal, perhaps a cockatoo or an egret. But my employer, the daredevil, wanted his audience to experience heart-pounding excitement and sheer terror, the kind that no 6 year old could provide. And so the idea of a lion came to pass.
It was a resounding but short-lived success as during the first ride, the lion proceeded to eat the daredevil. I soon found myself out of work and penniless. And for that, I dislike lions.
