A. If you must know, it’s a crustacean, particularly abundant off the Tonga Islands. It has long, fan-like spikes that it waves 180 degrees all around itself while it moves along the sea floor, sweeping in plankton that stick to each spike, or spoke, it you’re using the past tense, by the force of electromagnetism. It also wards off predators by the electrical shock it maintains in each projection or finger of its fan. The question for naturalists has always been why it knocks out of even slays giant squid and octopi, since they do not feast or even snack on broomschlagers or pose any threat to them. With the advent of modern undersea photography, we now have an answer. It’s all been a tragic mistake. Broomschlagers are not assaulting any squid or octopi but, down there in the murky depths, are merely tapping them on the shoulders to ask directions. Unfortunately, they don’t know their own power. How could they, come to think of it? They’ve never had any voltmeters or anything. And where would they carry one? They don’t even have a pouch: they’re all mouth and waving bristles. My own zoological advice, when unconscious or deceased squids and octopi are found, is to fetch up all neighboring broomschlagers in nylon nets—never wood nets, or even marginal hemp—and, being careful not to touch them with the human hand (unless a war criminal is in the boat), lift or drag them to a place like the Great Barrier Reef, which is filled with vicious mako sharks. Let them get some rough treatment for a change.sweeping in plankton that stick to each spike, or spoke, it you’re using the past tense, by force of electromagnetism. It also wards off predators by the electrical shock it maintains in each projection or finger of its fan. The question for naturalists has always been why it knocks out or even slays giant squid and octopi, since they do not feast or even snack on broomschlagers or pose any threat to them. With the advent of modern undersea photography, we now have an answer. It’s all been a tragic mistake. Broomschlagers are not assaulting any squid or octopi but, down there in the murky depths, are merely tapping them on the shoulders to ask directions. Unfortunately, they don’t know their own power. How could they, come to think of it? They’ve never had any voltmeters or anything. And where would they carry one? They don’t even have a pouch: they’re all mouth and waving bristles. My own zoological advice, when unconscious or deceased squids and octopi are found, is to fetch up all neighboring broomschlagers in nylon nets—never wood nets, or even marginal hemp—and, being careful not to touch them with the human hand (unless a war criminal is in the boat), lift or drag them to a place like the Great Barrier Reef, which is filled with vicious mako sharks. Let them get some rough treatment for a change.
