A muscular tiger sprawls lazily on a striped towel, his fur glistening with a sheen of tanning oil. His massive chest rises and falls in a peaceful nap, a faint, smug smile lingering on his face from a morning spent charming every female on the beach. Seashell necklaces and a pile of empty coconut drinks clutter the sand beside him, evidence of his flirtatious escapades.
A lioness, her golden fur bristling, clenches a bottle of BBQ sauce in one paw. Her glare is icy, her jaw set tight in irritation—she’s clearly had enough of the tiger’s antics. Children playing nearby stop to watch as she stalks toward the tiger, her tail lashing with agitation.
Without hesitation, the lioness uncaps the sauce and squirts a generous, sticky stream all over the tiger’s striped back. The sauce oozes into his fur, glistening under the sun. A hush falls over the beach as she casts a meaningful glance skyward, her paw pointing with authority at the now-messy tiger.
Dozens of seagulls descend, pecking and flapping around the tiger, who jerks awake too late to defend himself. Feathers fly, wings buffet, and the air is filled with the frantic squawking of birds feasting on the BBQ-slathered feline. When the chaos finally settles, only a neat pile of sun-bleached tiger bones remains on the towel.
The lifeguard looks sternly at the lioness and points at the prominent “No Littering” sign posted beside the lifeguard’s stand. "Excuse me, ma’am, we have rules here. Clean up after yourself," the lifeguard says, his tone firm but not unkind. The lioness’s ears droop as she contemplates the consequences of her dramatic actions.
"Sorry about that. I got a bit carried away," the lioness mutters, embarrassment tinging her voice. She carefully deposits the tiger’s bones into a nearby trashcan, glancing sheepishly at the lifeguard. With the mess cleaned up, the order of the beach is restored—though the story of the flirty tiger’s comeuppance will be retold for many summers to come.
