You’re in the deep, dark, moist Amazonian jungle with only your wits, a loin cloth and your iPhone 6S by your side. You been traversing the thick foliage for days, taking on a terrain more confusing than a Bengalese dessert menu, a bead of sweat forming on your brow. You take a deep breath, smelling the fresh animal poop from various birds, lizards and small mammals (seriously consider the amount of uncleaned poop there is in the wild, it’s more than you think). But wait: you’re not alone.

Out there, where no man has gone before, lives a predator like no other. A beast of the wild, but a calculated killer, one that can do what most cannot: wait. An assassin that can stalk its victim for hours, waiting for a window of opportunity. A shadow of the night that silently follows your every move, waiting for your guard to drop. A beast that shows no fear, waiting until a boy becomes a man to strike.

A cougar.

By definition, a cougar is an older woman between the ages of 35 to 65, that preys on younger men by night. With their sharp, well maintained claws and long beautiful manes, everyone knows the cougar is a ferocious killer. I’m here to say that the hype has gone too far. That’s why I’m going out on a limb to say that I could take on one of these hunters 4/10 times, in a cage, to the death.

Yeah, I get it, they’re dangerous and stuff, but c’mon! I could definitely beat the crap out of that old lady at least 2/10 times, if they’re old enough, you know? She comes at me with her subtle come-on’s and I take that chance to beat the animal to a bloody pulp, easy peezy. It’d be quick and painless, like a old person rectal exam. Ok, sure I get it, when they’re plus 65 it can’t be that hard, I’m just making excuses, but they’re out there. 70 year old cougars are real, and they’re feisty, like a riled up howler monkey. That shit’s scary.

Let’s say she’s got a bit more of a fight in her, a bit younger, a bit stronger. That’s when things get difficult. She finds me a bit intoxicated and starts to make a move, but I know I can still bring myself to defend myself and kill the vicious predator. It would take a bit longer than expected, like when your instant noodles say three minutes to make but you eat a noodle and it’s still so fucking uncooked so you wait another two minutes and they’re fine but you’re like “why doesn’t it just say 5 minutes in the first place, are the instant noodle people thinking that the three minute time is a selling point or something? Like just tell me how long it takes to get good the first time around, I’m buying this shit cause I’m poor, not cause I enjoy eating shitty fake noodles that take specifically under four minutes to cook, don’t lie to me instant noodle people!” That makes 3/10, the last situation is more of a lucky shot.

She’s young, attractive and financially stable, a triple threat. You meet her at a conference, she’s just out of a longterm relationship and doesn’t want anything serious. She flirts with you for a while, taking control. It seems impossible, I get it, but hear me out for a second: All I’ve got to do is look past the facade and see her for what she truly is. If I don’t kill her, she’ll get the K and it’s game over. I do what must be done.

Ok, I’ll admit, the rest of the time, the cougar takes the edge, but 4/10 times I could take em on, no doubt. How do the other 6/10 go?

We meet, I fall in love. We got out for a while, saying it’s just a fling, something we can both walk away from. She’s kind, she’s stable, she knows what she wants. I give her all that I have and then one day I wake up, alone in my bed. She’s left for work, like she always said she would. That’s the day that I die. Cause of death: broken heart.

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