a horrible, horrible thing
But yesterday, in that same tank. Horrible, horrible horror. The bulk of the crabs were lying around in a stupor: traumatized, stoned, what have you. But one crab was not moving - or rather, not moving OF ITS OWN VOLITION. Because there was movement involved. And the busy, horrible crab behind it? What was it doing? Was it having sex with the motionless crab? No.
The crab in front had died. And THE CRAB IN BACK WAS EATING IT. The. Crab. In. Back. Was. Tearing. Pieces. Out of the crab. In. Front!! Waving the pieces around, and EATING THEM. With, I have to say, as far as I can make out crab expressions, a totally psychotic look on its face.
I wished I had never been born.