Hello, I'm David Attendigger. Welcome to "Struggle for Reproduction."

Right now, in my lap, I have a Venezuelan Dung Beetle. Its mighty pincers are capable of ripping a person literally in half at the slightest hint of annoyance. Right now, I'm going to tickle it on its behind.

But first, over to Borneo, where Simbu, my faithful companion, is wrestling with a wildebeest.

Simbu: (translated from Swahili) "No, no! Make it stop. Help me, you stupid British fool!"

As you can see, Simbu is having a rough time of it. That's because the wildebeest is one of nature's toughest cow-like creatures. Let's see if the wildebeest engages in its usual trampling behavior when confronting a creature much smaller than it.

Simbu: "I hate you! Die like the tea-drinking pig you are. Bleah."

Yes, and with a resounding, "bleah," Simbu is dead. Letting us know quite clearly which species is king of this jungle.

Now, let's go under the ocean to the Giant Spotted Wily Shark. Simbu is dead, but his brother Simbee is here to help us. Do you see the shark's huge teeth. The smallest of them is over 1 inch long. This particular shark has over 300 of them.

As you see, Simbee is suspended in a cage in the water. This fragile cage can only be expected to keep out an angry Giant Spotted Wily for about .5 seconds. We've instructed Simbee to prod the shark with this fork attached to a 10' pole.

Simbee: (translated from Brooklynese) "Blurble. Gack, blurble, blurble. Tea-drinking blurble."

Thankfully, Simbee's brother Simba is standing by, ready to go in the cage after it's been cleared.

Simba: "Die, old man. Get away from me. I'm not going into that cage! Help me. Oh, for the love of God."

Simba has been successfully subdued, and now we're going to place him in the cage. But, this time, not alone. We're putting the Giant Spotted Wily in with him.

Unfortunately, it seems the Wily is not interested in Simba, perhaps because Simba has not regained consciousness. So, we're going to do three things. One, we're going to give Simba a series of small electrical shocks until he awakens. And Two, we're going to release a pheromone into the water that smells like the blood of the Orange-Bellied Spiny Fish, incidentally, the favorite food of the Giant Spotted Wily. And Thirdly, we're going to ring this small, underwater, dinner bell.

A gruesome sight, indeed. Clearly, if there is one thing we've learned from this, it's never to place a man inside a shark cage with a shark.

And now, back to the plains of Africa. We've located a rhinoceros. In the interest of science we've decided we have to track him for the next five years. This involves my faithful, if a bit dumb, assistant Simbi placing a small tracking device up its rectum.

Normally, we would drug the rhinoceros before attempting a tagging like this, but I blew this week's budget on clothes and caviar, thus, not allowing the money for tranquilizers.

The interesting thing to note at this point, is that Simbi does not realize that the rhino has not been drugged. Carefully watch his reaction as he attempts to place the probe in the sleeping rhino's rectum.

Simbi: "Curse you, old man! I'll get you for this, if it's the last thing I do. You tea-drinking -- Ahhhhhh!"

Amazing. He was actually capable of forming coherent sentences despite the obvious primal fear on his face.

Now, back to the insect kingdom where we've find a nest of dangerous bees. Let's watch an interesting display of navigation and communication.

My faithful companion Simbo is busily annoying one bee approximately 500 yards from the hive. One bee alone is not enough to do any serious harm to a person, but this bee has had enough of Simbo.

Simbo: "Ow."

Let's follow the bee to see what happens next. He uses an amazing act of navigation to find his way back to the hive. He guides himself by the sun. What's more, he is able to communicate the position of Simbo to his friends in the hive.

Here we see him doing his little bee dance to communicate the exact angle from the sun, the angle that his fellow bees must go along to sting Simbo.

And they do. So, as not to confuse the little bees, we've tied Simbo down to the ground to keep him from running around. Each bee travels that precise angle from the sun and unerringly finds Simbo tied to the ground, where the bee then stings him.

You would think they would stop once they'd stung him a hundred times or so, but no, they continue well on through the afternoon.

The original bee still does his little dance with the exact same angle well into the day. You would expect that this would make the bees unable to find Simbo, but their clever little internal clocks help them calculate the change in the sun's angle throughout the day, so, even five hours later, they are still able to find Simbo's swollen corpse and sting him.

And now, back to me and the beetle. Watch as I carefully extend my finger and tickle tickle tickle.

Producer: "Well, that's all for this week's 'Struggle for Existence'. Unfortunately, David Attendigger won't be around to bring you next week's show."

Copyright © 1994 by Robert T. Bakie