If You Killed a Larger and Larger Animal Every Day, at What Point Would It Become Fucked Up?

Some articles tell stories. Others give suggestions. This morning, I would like to try something a little different and ask you, the reader, a question that has been on my mind for quite some time. You’ve read the title (real clickbait-y, I know) but I’ll give you a quick reminder. If you killed a larger and larger animal everyday, at what point would it become fucked up?

First, let’s go through the parameters of my hypothetical. You do not get to selectively choose your animal, skipping over the puppies and the otters of the world and jumping right to the Proboscis Monkey (seen below). I think I speak for all of us in saying I wouldn’t bat an eye while beating that thing senseless with its own, oddly phallic schnozz.

Rather, you must systematically, through using the average weight of each creature in the Animal Kingdom, kill every single one as you work your way up the ladder. 

It is also important to note how you must kill each animal. Frankly, however the fuck you want. Have at it, you soon-to-be Ted Bundy, you! The world’s your oyster (or bunny or ferret or whatever it is you settle on). However, my two stipulations to this rule are that it must be you who does it, so no setting traps or hiring outside help, and you can’t feign that it is an accident. There must be intent – otherwise you can just cop out until you start killing humans and people start asking questions (yes, people are animals too, read a book).

In my own opinion, the answer to my posed question is a hummingbird. My first instinct was to go with the smallest mammal, because most of the other animal classes didn’t really tug at my heartstrings if I’m going to be honest (many people told me that some sort of frog or toad was the breaking point, but I wouldn’t think twice before “poking some holes in its back so it could breathe”). Then I looked at what the smallest mammal was, and let me just say, wow. I mean, look at this thing.

 It looks primed and ready to tongue-punch some other etruscan shrew’s fart box, but it sure doesn’t make me feel all warm and cuddly inside. All I’m saying is that if I ran over one with my car, I wouldn’t stop. In thinking more deeply on the matter, I realized just how hard it is to inadvertently kill something that is flying, and I’m not about to base my morality off of whether or not I can convince myself that I am just giving the bird a chiropractic adjustment or not. So, hummingbird it is.

The purpose of this is to leave you thinking and questioning the world around you, if just a little bit more. Things like “Life really is meaningless isn’t it, and time is just relative and oh jeez oh god I’m gonna die too?” or “What the fuck did I just read, and who is ‘Slant Staff’ and do I really go to school with them?” or maybe, just maybe, “Killing a hummingbird can’t feel that bad, can it?”