After noisily slapping a black fly while crossing the beach on Sunday, I noticed a buncha nearby folks staring over at me, real hard. Then I had this blood-curdling thought: Holy, s***, did I just kill Cecil the Fly?
Oh, stop. I’m as pissed as you are over Dr. Demento’s cross-bowing, then bullet-blasting, Zimbabwe’s wonderful Cecil the Lionhearted.
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