Death #14:
Don’t Mess With the World’s Most Poisonous Mammal
By Julie
“G’day, mate!” Nick held his flip
camera up in front of his face and grinned. “We’ah heah in the Australian outback,
and today, we’ah huntin’ crocs. That’s
right, I said, crocs! Today,
we’ah not the Backstreet Boys. We’ah crocodile hunters, mate!”
He turned the camera around and panned across the
interior of the tour bus, zooming in on AJ. “Oy! It’s AJ! ‘Ay, ya seen any crocs today,
mate?”
“Not today, mate,” AJ replied in the same,
over-the-top Australian accent. “Just a couple o’ kangaroos… and a dingo!”
“A dingo ate my baby!” shrieked Brian in a
high-pitched voice.
Nick laughed, whipping the camera around to film
him. “A dingo ate your baby? Crikey! You sure it wasn’t a croc?”
“No, no, it was definitely a dingo!”
“What about you, Howie?” asked Nick, grinning
devilishly as he used the maximum zoom. He could practically count Howie’s nose
hairs. “Have you spotted a croc yet?”
“That accent’s really stupid, Nick,” Howie said,
rolling his eyes. Howie was no fun, but Nick was not deterred.
“Oy! Go throw another shrimp on the barbie, then,
or I’ll feed you to the crocs! When I find some, that is,” he added in an
undertone, turning the camera back onto himself.
He kept himself entertained by filming out the
window as the tour bus sped along the Gold Coast of Australia, taking them from
Brisbane to their next tour stop in Sydney. Nick had always loved Australia, and
because they toured there so infrequently, he always made sure to enjoy himself
“down under.”
He was just about to quit documenting his hunt for
“crocs” that day, for the sake of conserving his camera battery, when he
suddenly spotted movement in the bushes on the side of the road. They had just
crossed a narrow river – the perfect place to spot a crocodile! “Oy!” he
shouted to the front of the bus. “Pull over, mate! I think I just saw me a croc!”
“Nick,” sighed Howie, shaking his head, but
Nick was already running to the front of the bus, his camera in hand. Alarmed,
thinking he had hit something, the driver eased the bus over to the shoulder
and lurched to a stop. “Nick, I really don’t think you should be getting off
the bus right now…” Nick could hear Howie saying, as he leaped down the steps.
He snuck back around behind the bus, treading
lightly, to avoid scaring off the crocodile. He could hear something rustling
around in the underbrush, and he whispered into the camera, “Oy… I’m hunting crocs…
and I think I might’ve found one…” He picked up a stick off the ground and
poked at the bushes with it.
As soon as he did, something came shooting out at
him. Nick jumped back, startled, but before he could make a run for it, he
realized this critter was no crocodile. It was similar in shape, but much, much
smaller, and furry, with a flat tail like a beaver and a bill like a duck.
“Platypus!” he cried, jumping up and down and pointing in excited recognition.
“It’s a duck-billed platypus!”
The poor, frightened platypus tried to scurry back
into the bushes, but Nick pounced on it, simply wanting to catch it, to hold it
for a second, to be able to say he’d pet a platypus. He was as quick as he was
impulsive, and just like that, his fingers snagged the platypus by the tail and
pulled.
This was a mistake.
One second, he was struggling to get a better grip
on the squirming platypus, and the next, a sharp, stabbing pain was shooting up
his arm, and he had dropped the platypus, which hightailed it across the road
and disappeared from sight. Nick was left swaying on the side of the road,
holding out his hand in horror. Already, it had swelled up to twice its normal
size, and the pain radiating from a tiny prick on the inside of his wrist was
excruciating.
“Nick, what happened?” asked Brian, jogging
towards him.
Nick looked down at his swollen hand in disbelief.
“That little fucker stung me… or something! Look!” he thrust his hand into Brian’s
face. “I got stung by a fucking platypus!”
Brian bit down on his bottom lip, apparently
trying not to laugh, but to Nick, it wasn’t funny! His hand was in agony. The
pain was so bad, he felt light-headed and queasy, like he might pass out.
“Platypuses aren’t poisonous, are they?” Brian asked Howie, sounding worried, once
he’d helped Nick back onto the bus.
“Is it platypuses or platypi?”
AJ interjected unhelpfully.
“I’ll look it up,” said Howie, pulling out his
smartphone. Soon, he was reading off its screen, “The
duck-billed platypus is the world’s most poisonous mammal, the male having a
spur on the hind foot that delivers a venom capable of…”
“Oh, shit!” howled Nick.
Howie looked up in alarm. “Was it a male platypus
that got you, Nick?”
“How the fuck would I know, Howie, I didn’t
exactly see its little platypus penis! All I know is this fucking hurts like
hell!” cried Nick, cradling his hand in his other arm and rocking. “Oh god, I’m
gonna die… I’m gonna die just like Steve Irwin, only not from a stingray, but a
fucking platypus!”
“You’re not going to die!” Howie said sharply. “It
says here that platypus venom isn’t deadly to humans. It just causes swelling
and severe pain. We need to get you to a hospital so they can take control your
pain.”
But this, too, proved to be a mistake.
By the time they reached the nearest hospital,
Nick was vomiting uncontrollably from the pain, and his arm had swollen up all
the way to his shoulder. The emergency room doctor said he was in shock and
gave him a shot of anesthetic to numb the nerves in his hand. He reacted badly,
suffering an allergic reaction that made his blood pressure bottom out, leading
to a complete cardiovascular collapse.
“I don’t understand. He was just talking. Walking
around. Hunting crocodiles.” Howie shook his head tearfully, still trying to
comprehend how a simple roadside stop could have gone so wrong.
Brian and AJ said nothing, just stared down at
Nick’s lifeless body in disbelief, as the doctor pronounced his death.
Death… by platypus.
***