In a shocking turn of events that has left marine biologists baffled and local authorities clutching their pearls, a man has been killed in a shark attack off the coast of Australia’s north-east. The victim, whose identity is being withheld until his next of kin can be notified (and possibly until his remains are no longer the subject of a particularly aggressive game of ‘fetch’ between great white siblings), was reportedly swimming when the incident occurred. Witnesses described a scene of serene aquatic beauty that was rudely interrupted by a creature Darwin himself would have described as ‘a bit overzealous in the evolutionary arms race.’
But let us not mince words, dear readers. This was not a ‘feeding event’ or ‘predation’ as the dour-faced experts on the news would have you believe. This was a performance review. The shark, a creature of impeccable taste and rigorous standards, clearly found the gentleman’s swimming technique lacking. Perhaps he was doing the breaststroke when a more vigorous front crawl was expected. Maybe he failed to maintain eye contact during the territorial handshake. We shall never know.
Local officials have, predictably, swung into action with the kind of bureaucratic efficiency normally reserved for tax audits. Shark nets are being checked, drones are being deployed, and a man in a beige suit has assured us that ‘everything that can be done is being done,’ which in the lexicon of political double-speak translates to ‘we have no idea what we’re doing, but we’ll say it with enough conviction that you’ll believe us.’
The victim’s family is understandably distraught, but let us spare a thought for the shark. Imagine the sheer indignity. You spot what you think is a promising candidate for a position in the food chain. You go through the rigorous interview process (i.e., you bite them). You then discover they are not up to the standard required. So you spit them out. But do the papers headline ‘Shark Disappointed by Substandard Prey’? No. It’s always ‘Man Eaten Whole by Man-Eating Monster.’ The bias is staggering.
This incident raises serious questions about our relationship with the ocean. We like to think of it as a charming aquatic adventure park, complete with dolphins and mermaids. But the ocean is a savage boardroom, and sharks are the middle managers who have been passed over for promotion one too many times. They are bitter, they are hungry, and they will not hesitate to give your swimming credentials a thorough and fatal audit.
So let this be a lesson to all: if you venture into the deep blue, ensure your strokes are impeccable, your turns are sharp, and that you have a healthy respect for the apex predator’s performance metrics. Otherwise, you might just find yourself on the receiving end of a career-ending review.
In the meantime, I shall be raising a glass of gin to the departed, and to the shark who now has to update his CV. ‘Dismissed one mid-level manager: available for new challenges.’ And to the rest of you, stay out of the water until this particular HR nightmare blows over. Or at least learn to tread water with sass.
