So my Mom thinks I’m no fun now. I don’t like the Shamu show at Sea World. I don’t appreciate it enough. You’re supposed to love Shamu. Worship the mighty Shamu like the whale God that he is. He’s a whale. He’s a God. Yeah, right.
The Shamu show is this really big deal at Sea World. The highlight of your visit to the aquatic magic kingdom that Sea World is. They really play it up for the crowd. They have James Earl ‘Darth Vader’ Jones do his Darth Vader voice (minus the obscene heavy breathing) ‘Bow down and worship the mighty Shamu!’ That heavy breathing you do hear is the guy behind you who’s the killer whaleophile.
Shamu comes swimming out on cue and magnificently leaps from the water, drenching the first ten rows (the ‘soak zone’) with water, whale piss, spit, and shit. The crowd goes wild. You don’t see comedy like this on TV kiddies.
Next, they go into the shtick about what a perfect killer the Orca is in his natural habitat. ‘Here at Sea World we keep our killer whales in big swimming pools though so you are all safe’ booms Darth Vader, Dark Lord of the Sith. Since we are all safe here at Sea World, we cane see the killer whale up close and examine his tender, loving side. He’s just got a bad reputation. Like Manson, the killer whale is misunderstood. Tell that to the trainer Shamu crushed a couple of years ago.
Shamu is so nice he likes to give little kids kisses. Shamu likes to lick little kids to be exact. They tell you he’s kissing them. He’s actually tasting them. It’s like a little taste test. A sampler plate. Little Billy from Arkansas comes up to the side of the tank. Darth Vader booms ‘Little Billy, Shamu can take your head off with one crunch of his mighty jaws!’ Billy goes ahead and kisses Shamu though because he’s gotten a contact high from Shamu’s fish breath. That shit must smell bad. There’s something rotten in that mammal.
Suddenly, something in Shamu makes him think he’s back in the Arctic hunting seals. Maybe he’s blinded momentarily by the sun, maybe it’s the dumb ass ears on that Goofy hat that Billy’s Dad bought him at Disneyland. Shamu takes Billy’s fucking head clean off, and one of his fat little arms too. The remainder of Billy’s torso falls to the ground, blood spurting everywhere, splashing those brave souls in the ‘soak zone’. People start to scream and faint and run for the gates. The trainers don’t know what to do. People are going nuts, running everywhere, freaking out. Not me. I sit in my seat and start to laugh. Momentarily the mighty Shamu and I look each other knowingly in the eyes. He understands. I understand. Shamu and I share a bond. Years and years of doing tricks for people. One day you just snap and bight some fat kid’s head off. Then, I wake up in a puddle.
Killer whales don’t belong in swimming pools. Those pools at Sea World are a little bit smaller than Shamu’s natural hunting range in the wild. Killer whales shouldn’t be taught cheap party tricks either. That shits for poodles and dolphins. No wonder Shamu’s fucking fin is droopy.
You know what would be an ass kicking show? Get Shamu into a frenzy. Throw Billy and his fat little friends into the tank. Throw some bleeding seals and sea lions in there too. Tie Billy to a bloody seal carcass and get a whole pod of killer whales in there after his ass. I’d pay full admission to see that shit, let me tell you!
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