At least alligators can't fly

So I'm at Fort Myers beach, doing my best to continue with my healing regimen of sunbathing while soaking in ocean water and rum. I've had a splendid time floating in the ocean, watching brown pelicans swooping and diving nearby, when I remember that it's time to put money in the parking meter.

I walked back to the car, and as I walked under a group of palm trees, right next to an educational display about sea turtles, I felt a sudden sharp "whack" in the back of my head. Accompanied by a loud screeching and a dark flapping in my peripheral vision. Then I felt something on the back of my neck and a series of sharp pokes to the back of my head, like someone jabbing me with a car key. I dropped onto my knees about the same time I realized I was being attacked. By birds. At the seashore, just like Hitchcock's movie. I began waving my arms around and ducked my head, and saw I was being harassed by two crows and some funny looking brown bird with spindly legs and a long, pointy beak. I made it to the car and they let up, and I looked over to see some guy sitting in his car gaping at me and my birds. I fed the meter and took the long way back to the beach, undisturbed. The guy in the car was still sitting there as I walked away, apparently afraid to get out. When I got to the stairs leading down to the sand, I saw a woman get pecked on the back of her head, once, as her friend shrieked. I told her I fell down when it happened to me, so she should be thankful she at least kept her dignity under bird attack.

I got back to the beach and told everyone what happened. No one believed me. I waded back into the soothing waters to nurse my wounds, hoping that sharks can't smell human bird fear.

When I came back, Miz Bubs and my cousins excitedly told me that they had seen the demon birds, and that a group of about a half-dozen blackbirds were busy attacking tourists as I had described. We spent the next half hour watching a steady procession of crying children and fat sunbaked Europeans learning the hard lesson that nature, especially in Florida, hates us all.