Our logo shows the beautiful angler fish for good reason. Perhaps the obvious choice for those unwilling to dip a toe in the water. Designed directly from the nightmares of overly intelligent children. The only thing more horrible than their 'oh look it's a pretty light, wait..., ARGH IT'S AN ACTUAL MONSTER' ness, is their weird mating. Mr Angler Fish is much, much tinier than Mrs Angler Fish. Mr AF BITES INTO Mrs AF belly and latches ontil he is permanently fused to her. Talk about needy. And gross. Their conversation is limited as his mouth is glued to her belly, and she has real difficulty making any plosive sounds. There's probably an angler fish under your pillow. They wear trousers with no socks and accidentally spit on you when they laugh.
The aye-aye is a unique, long-fingered lemur. Aye-ayes teeth continue to grow their whole lives. Sinister. Some will tell you the Aye-Aye uses its longest finger to tap for grubs and termites, before scooping them out of a handy hole with their next creepy digit. However, the crackity Aye-Aye is usually off its gourd on Spice or bath salts or whatever, and only use the middle long finger to flip off the squares who tell it to turn that bloody awful racket down. Their favourite drink is Monster Ultra Violet and their favourite food is Pickled Onion Space Raiders. Their name comes from the frequent shout that meets their appearance; "Aye! Aye! Getthefuckouttathere!"
Poor Blobfish. Bobbing around the sea depths, minding his own business, looking pretty fly. BAM - brought to the surface, depressurises and looks like that blind date you got set up with last Summer. Having a gloopy, gelatinous body (don't do that face at me, all these lock downs have been HARD) and a density slightly higher than water, the blobfish bobs about, eating whatever is in front of its face (I SAID DON'T JUDGE ME). That said, he's not an idea partner; smelling faintly of cardboard that's been put on a bonfire, then put out with water, he's prone to clearing his throat in an annoying, repetitive matter (cough already), and chuckling to himself whilst shaing his head, desperate to share an anecdote with you that is woefully overlong and with no apparent end, or indeed point. Don't make eye contact! I said, oh never mind...
Hello! Meet the human Bot fly. Looking a bit like a bee, but without a mouth. Because they don't eat in this stage. Creepy. Bot flies tend to visit cinemas and sit next to those who most look like they want to be left alone. Even though they can't eat, they rustle crisp bags through the entire film and kick the back of your seat sporadically, and sometimes put their bare feet up on the headrest of the seat next to you. If that doesn't work, they'll put their little clammy feet on your legs. Their favourite hobby is snatching mosquitos and putting their eggs all over them before letting them go. Then the mozzie lands on you or I, and when they make a little hole to feed on your delicious sugary blood, they inadvertently drop an egg or two it. There, a fat little larva develops, in your groin, or wrist, or inner corner of your eye. The larva have backward facing tiny hooks the better to stop you getting them out. If you haven't already gone screaming to the doctor's demanding they take out the wriggly lump, after about a month, they chew their way out and get on with growing into a mouthless horror fly. Always check a mystery wound for a pair of spiricles folks.
"Dude!" "NO WAY!" "Dude!". This is pretty much all the Bristlemouth says, hence the perpetually surprised face. Numbering in quadrillions, these deep sea toothy fishes swim higher at night and flash their photophores at each other. "DUDE I am toastex right now!" "No way, I'm tripping balls too bro!" Repeat ad nauseum. Main food sources are disco biscuits, micro dots and the hands and faces of midnight skinny dippers.
Although innocuous in appearance, the candiru or 'vampire fish' is known for it's mythical ability to swim up the end of a gentleman's pene. When it is snug, deep within the urethra, it is said to latch on with its razor sharp teeth. Of which it has legion. Debate on the veracity of this legend exists only because everyone is too scared to look. There may be up to 9 billion candirus lodged in hog's eyes worldwide at any given time. However, it is reassuring to note that only 87% of these bore their way through the body cavity into the brain, where they will operate the body as an amusing meat puppet. Loved ones may suspect infestation if a sudden interest in conspiracy theories , Michael Macintyre or obtaining the Hayu channel manifests, along with severe wincing and a marked decrease (or increase) in onanism.
Cookie Cutter Shark
Why should we stay on land today? I imagined you asking that and I'm pleased you asked. Today you should avoid the briney depths that are home to the cutesily-named Cookie Cutter Shark. Sharks aren't that bad are they? This one scoops out big circular chunks of your flesh with it's bandsaw-like teeth. So it is. It doesn't wear socks, but it does wear pointy brogues. Its favourite music is the Lighthouse Family's 'Ocean Drive' which it plays on repeat at you, and its favourite drink is warm squash. It's a shit shark. There, I said it. You thought it first.
Deep Sea Dragon Fish
All cosied up my chums? Snuggle down and I'll tell you the story of Fluff Bunkins. My mistake, it's Horror Show, the Deep Sea Dragonfish. Oops. Like a less-cuddly chest-burster, the Dragonfish lures prey with its pretty light-up cheeks, belly spots and wavy terror-barbel. It makes it massive needleteeth extra nightmare by being able to open its jaws past 100 degrees and eating anything it can fit in. Like jam sandwiches, a melon, or your face. It claims to like 'long walks, star gazing and vibrant discussion'. What it actually likes is 'sneaking about, shredding living tissue and champing it into a pulp', but it found it got less dates with that. Its favourite programme is Top Gear. Stay away from the light Carol Anne.
Deep Sea Lizard Fish
Fine, you asked for it. Tonight we pay hommage to the spiny-toothed Deepsea LizardFish. That's right, it's *not* a true lizardfish, but you won't worry about that when you're cheerfully mooching along the ocean floor and BAM! He whickersnickers out and snaps his jaws shut on you. They eat everything, especially your eyes, and like to play lullabies on tiny wind-up music boxes whilst sneaking up on you.
The diving beetle larva's favourite hobby is snitching. Their terrible posture comes from peering through their curtains. Idle gossip, life destroying rumours and hearsay is what fuels them (well that and tadpoles). In fact, they are often courted as they make very salacious dinner guests. However, their tendency to pump their dinner full of digestive juoces before sucking it all up again often means they don't often get asked back. 97% of all 'silent-but-violent' farts in public places are down to them. They are unusually proud of their moustaches, and if properly flattered on them, may do their AT-AT impression for you (it's quite good). Despite their shitty personalities, its best to keep on their good side, as when adult, they feed by tearing things into pieces. Like faces. Blames their antisocial behaviours on being bullied at school. In fairness, '4 eyes' is accurate in their case.
The dumbo octopus is not, as many think, named for it's flappy fins that look like an cartoon elephant's ears. It refers cruelly to the abyssal sea-dwelling octopod's very low IQ. No dumbo octopus has ever got higher than an E grade in any exam. Indeed, many struggle to complete even the most basic education. They are unusual in that they do not produce ink, which is thought to be because they'd then be scared they'd have to write something. They live at depths of up to 7,000 metres in the hope that they don't meet anyone who might ask them a difficult question. Their favourite food is orange jelly and they often whistle tunelessly whilst they punt about the place.
What name could elicit fear without even seeing a thing? Meet, my friends, the charming Faceless fish. Long thought extinct, it was sadly rediscovered in 2017, hiding in a wardrobe in Salisbury under a discarded handbag. The faceless fish is a type of cusk eel (they're all quite 'homely'), with no face. Well, it has eyes buried deeeeeeep beneath the skin. So deep you may as well not bother. It feeds on despair, consistenly bashes into you and emits an irritating incessant humming noise of a frequency that causes you to make a brown underpant. Doesn't get invited to parties.
I'm making up you talking to me. I like having you as a friend, so bear with me. Ohh shh you're saying something; "I'm off to the municipal pool tomorrow, and I'm worried I won't soil myself in fear". Don't worry, my sweet imaginary friend. Let me tell you about the sweetly-named Fangtooth. So called, because of it's massive fang-ed tooth(s plural). Teeths. Whatever. If you looked it up, you might find it is relatively harmless, but what you won't find on Wikipedia, is it speaks in a very monotonous voice, usually going on and on about Brutalist architecture. It only likes watching Eastern European animation from the 60s and boasts incessantly about it's ability to make 'the perfect ragout' (which it can't). As soon as you are bored to sleep, it pops your eyes and drinks the goo. Legit nasty.
The Frogfish is so called because the person who named it was entirely unfamiliar with frogs. Creepily, it can't be bothered swimming and walks around the sea bottom on two stumpy fins, bellowing the chorus out of Paul McCartney's terrible 'Frog Chorus'. There are many types, some covered in spinules, which is Latin for 'spiteful stabbers'. They grow from an inch to 15 inches long. They like to hide all crafty-like. This one is wearing a smart algae suit. They eat only brown french fancies, or if out of season, Burger Bites crisps from the Spar. Like all good fish, the ladies might eat the men after doing the nasty. Because they can.
Do you like the soothing sound of crickets in Summer? Of course you do, you're not a monster. Hey, does that chirping sound a little bit different? That could be because that little leg-rasper is about 4 inches long and weighs the same as 2-3 mice or a couple of sparrows. That's a bit big for an insect you might think. Too right it is. Think about that for a minute. So very giant in fact, that they can't (thank you Jebus) fly. So (small mercies) nature doesn't bother giving them wings. Some have oviposters a couple of inches long. They don't need to be that long, yet they are. Isn't nature wonderful! There are a number of varieties of Giant Weta; from the massively-mandibled Tree Weta, to the Cave or jumping weta that can jump 2 metres. In the dark. At your face. AT YOUR NAKED UNSUSPECTING FACE. IN A CAVE. Apparently, they are 'quite docile', which is good, because if they were any more aggressive than 'quite docile', I imagine the entire Southern Hemisphere would be a desolate, burnt-out wasteland as New Zealanders set fire to everything in a bid to stop them eating their human oppressors. Thankfully, they are mostly herbivorous, but have been known to eat other insects of normal, not pant-shit-inducing size. Gant Weta's can be lured with cheese and onion crisp sandwiches and captured. The Weta was almost hunted to extinction with up to 0.7p being paid per Weta at the height of their (illegal) trade. It is no coincidence that they are of course, the primary ingredient in Weetabix.
It's been a bit rainy today, and in case you are planning on walking in any very, very, very deep puddles, let me intoduce you the Goblin Shark. It's got really horrible table manners, a giant weird fish nose and is described as a 'living fossil'. Or an 'actual nightmare'. It's most recognisable feature is it's reedy nasal laughter. Frequent sender of unsolicited nudes, the Goblin shark has no concept of personal space. One minute you're trying to avoid its uncomfortably personal questions, the next you're looking at its horrid fishy uvula. Goblin OR shark but never both. Please.
Today's 'no diving' comes courtesy of the Gulper or Pelican eel. Although technically a fish, the gulper eel will still give you the screaming terror-shits by hypnotising you by repeating your darkest fears in an almost inaudible whisper and swallowing your cat whole.
"What drives you mad?", I imagine you asking me, all nice and you've probably made me a nice cup of tea as well. Yet again, I am touched by your fictional interest, so I'll tell you. The assumption that all my wide-ranging and specialist knowledge is based on aquatic life. There, I said it. That said, let me share something of the Kinkajou. All mammals with prehensile tails are good. Fact. Kinkajous live in forests, eating up fruit and trying to run away from stupids wanting their fur and meat and to keep them as pets. They righteously hate all that stuff. BUT, there is a dark side to the Kinkajou, come sit next to me. Kinkajous are experienced astral travellers. If you've been feeling weird, peculiar or plagued by darkness, likely your sleeping body has been host to a mischievious kinkajou hell-bent on an out of body experience. My personal kinkajou likes hoarding beetles, Roast Beef Monster Munch and reading autobiographies about people with weird jobs. The days I don't do these things, he is angered and visits me in my sleep and plagues me with nightmares about letting people down by doing things like stopping to buy cigarettes when I haven't even smoked for 15 years. Then I wake up all anxious and these days are TERRIBLE The days I *do* do these things, he is happy, and gives me dreams about space ships and underwater cities and I wake up all happy. The important thing is to remember to please your visiting astral kinkajou. You're welcome.
Meet this little shit. The Kissing Bug should be renamed non-consensual sinister murdery biter. Admittedly less catchy. He drives very slowly on dual carriageways half in both lanes and squeezes all the soft fruit in supermarkets. He also is attracted by your breath while you sleep, lands by your mouth and bites you and drinks your blood. If you are lucky you wake up a bit itchy. If you are unlucky you can enjoy symptoms as varied as swollen glands, fatigue, heart disease and failure, anyphylactic shock or an enlarged oesophegus or colon. He does that weird thing of making his tongue into a funnel when he coughs so it all goes on you. Probably into your sleeping mouth. The little creep.
"The fuck you say?!" Poor Lumpfish. Firstly, it's called a Lumpfish. Secondly, it's called a Lumpfish. Thirdly, it's mostly prized for being caught, having its eggs removed for someone who can't afford posh caviar ("the fish pooooooo Sir?") and then tossed back in the sea. Barren, and somewhat worse, dead. No wonder they look like this. ALSO they are sometimes 'employed' to clean up parasites from filthy salmon in salmon farms. They don't even get paid. EQUAL RIGHTS FOR LUMPFISH! We can forgive them for their leaving the bread open when they make their sandwiches (crusts off, thick white, ham OR jam), and taking ages to answer the door (they don't have a swim bladder, so they frequent the deeper bits). LOVED Game of Thrones and is losing sleep over whether he thinks the new House Of Dragons series is a bit shit. Tolerable.
"What," you thoughtlessly interrupt my important thinks with "what can help me sleep better than Horlicks tonight?" Well, of COURSE, the happy thought of a Hydrothermal Vent Polychaete Worm. A carefree manner and a fondness for soft cheeses all endear this little fella to me. He has no eyes and enormous palps. Palps. A feathery head and an afghan coat made of bacteria, he boils his tail end, and keeps his noggin much cooler. He sings, surprisingly, in a beautiful tuneful falsetto, and does terrifically accurate technical drawings. Polychaete worm you make me smile Cheery small extremeophile Keep bumbum warm in briney bed In cooler water is your head Wiggling palps at passers by Sweetly sing, be never dry
Red Lipped Bat Fish
"What's that WALKING AROUND on the sea bed?" Don't look, don't looooooook! Fine it's a red-lipped bat fish. "Why's it called a....oh". It stomps around the deep sea, glowing it's weird back glow-stick at things to try and get them close. It's crap at swimming, which is kind of awful given that it's a fish. It describes itself as 'a super-fun, woke Gen Z', and says it doesn't like to talk about itself but it does. At length. Likes to give relationship advice, despite being notably single. Disapproves of anyone who isn't 'disciplined' about excercise (as long as you don't mention swimming, or being good at it). Tags you in memories on Facebook in photographs that you wish had never been taken and they know you look rubbish in. Has a weird mothbally/medicine smell.
Best. Name. Ever. This, my friends, is the Sarcastic Fringehead. It is an aggressive little fella, and typically gets into a ruck by muttering something like 'oh that's attractive' at someone wearing an ugly shirt. They fight by opening their mouths as wide as they can and pressing them together. You may have accidentally dated one. The favoured food of the SF is squid eggs and vimto and they like anything Kurt Russell is in.
Fishy in the water, fishy in the sea, who do you like best? Fishy or me? Fishy. Especially the beautiful seadragon. The first time I saw these in real life with my eyes, I almost had a happy cry. Because they live in the sea, they have to swim swim swim and swim up for heckin ages, just so they can breathe fire. The mum seadragon gets a bundle of sticks and wraps sari silk around them, and does a spell, while the dad seadragon chants until the silk-sticks turn into eggs. The dad then carries them away until they are small. You can have leafy or common flavours of seadragon. They both like soup. They usually have an overbite, which is why they are often too self conscious to smile for cameras. They get rotten soppy if they hear an orchestra in full swing, especially if there's soaring strings and they think you look best when you wear green.
This is a small adult sea monkey. Since the late 1950s they have been sold as 'instant pets' . Surprisingly they are still available for sale, despite hundreds outgrowing their tiny platic tanks, writhing across the floor and feasting on the dreams of sleeping children. They can survive in their dessicated state for up to 3,000 years and hibernate in dark wardrobes - waiting to fall on an unsuspecting human host which they then burrow into to obtain the refreshing life goo.