Homo Exanimalis – Pests in the Forest!

The Homo Exanimalis referred to here is commonly known as a hunter. The correct designation for this pest, however, is pleasure killer or thrill killer. To ensure that you or your dog do not accidentally fall victim to such a pest in the forest, here are some explanations for better understanding.

Habitus:

You will rarely encounter females among the lust killers. The females are very shy and seldom go hunting. Males, on the other hand, you will almost always find in the forest. First of all, you should look out for large, environmentally unfriendly off-road vehicles. These are the favorite vehicles of these pests, with which they plow through the forest recklessly. The males like to wear green, weatherproof clothing and usually a conspicuous, often ridiculous headpiece in the form of an effeminately decorated hat. The males also enjoy adorning themselves with large phallic symbols. Binoculars and night-vision scopes are popular neck accessories among the lust killers. The common lust killer also always carries a large rifle. It has been reported on several occasions that a certain object eroticism comes into play here. Such an obsession only becomes understandable when one realises that the lust killer is completely devoid of feeling towards living beings and desperately searching for sensation. Incidentally, rumours that the size of the rifle is disproportionate to the size of the genitalia are nonsense. No rifle could be that large... In public, outside their forest, they are hard to identify, as they are skilled at camouflaging themselves. However, they sometimes reek of blood and carrion, which can be a small indicator for the attentive observer. The rate of alcoholism among lust killers is comparatively high, meaning a strong smell of alcohol can serve as a further useful indicator for identifying a forest pest.

Habitat:

The thrill killers love to build cozy high seats from which they can carry out their cowardly endeavor — the treacherous slaughter of defenseless creatures — with ease and without effort. They like to adorn their elevated towers of death with camouflage netting. This not only looks impressive but makes it even easier for the thrill killers to murder in cold blood. To lure their victims as close as possible to their precision weapons, they scatter excessively large amounts of bait. In the language of the thrill killers, this is called baiting. As a walker, you would do well not to linger too long near these towers of death, as the thrill killers sometimes spend hours sitting and waiting on such stands — brooding dully to themselves — until they can finally satisfy their bloodlust. Their bodily waste, their rubbish, and their lead-containing ammunition residues contaminate the surroundings around the towers of death. When Homo Exanimalis is not sitting in his tower of death, he has most certainly made himself comfortable in an urban apartment. Hanging on walls and lining shelves, the thrill killer hoards corpses — affectionately called trophies by the thrill killer — for even in his private domain, the obsessive thrill killer surrounds himself with the products of his shameful deeds and takes delight in the slaughtered creatures.

Communication:

You are welcome to attempt communication with the lust killer. Although the lust killer has, over the centuries, developed its own language — the so-called “Huntsman's tongue” — it will nonetheless be capable of understanding your language in its basic form. Under no circumstances should you provoke the pest with critical topics relating to its way of life and conduct. The aggressive lust killer male tends quickly to express its frustration through sudden outbursts of violence and/or abuse delivered in crude, scatological language. You must not hold this against the pest, however, for the linguistic deficiencies described above make it no easy matter for the irritably grunting lust killer to respond with well-reasoned argument rather than with violence and insults. In such a situation, remain calm and speak slowly. The lust killer, prone to delusions of grandeur, believes itself to be the lord of the forest and will attempt to drive you from its habitat through intimidation and sometimes even aggressive threatening displays. It occasionally even goes so far as to simply shoot your dog on its lead, in order to give still fuller expression to its supposed territorial claims. If you speak quickly, it will not understand you. Do not be intimidated by the irascible pest, and calmly ask to see its hunting warden's badge along with the accompanying confirmation issued by the local hunting authority. Should the lust killer be unable to produce identification, this may in certain circumstances constitute coercion or impersonation of an official, which you should report to the authorities.

Health:

The health of the pleasure killers leaves much to be desired. Most of these wondrous creatures suffer from a severe hunting fever that, when acutely inflamed, is apparently capable of shutting down all brain synapses. In this state, resembling apallic syndrome, the pleasure killers are particularly irritable and dangerous. It even happens on occasion that, in the grip of hunting fever and due to a lack of brain activity, they shoot one another down — lust and passion make one blind. Some of the most severely afflicted pests seek their salvation abroad. Far from home, they attempt to recover from their bloodthirsty hunting fever through the uninhibited killing of protected species. At this stage, however, the brain damage has already progressed so far that the Homo Exanimalis is beyond help. He will continue to shoot and senselessly kill until he redeems himself in his own delusion, one of his fellow specimens accidentally puts him down for good, or he dies a natural death.

Social structure:

The pleasure killer can be found in all sectors of society. He appears most frequently in politics, the judiciary, and management. This insular society does not shy away from corruption, lobbying, breaking the law, and nepotism in order to continue to protect and practice near-uncontrolled pleasure killing. Pleasure killers also enjoy banding together in clubs. In such hunting clubs, archaic rituals take place that are capable of amusing no one but the pleasure killer himself. The pest is also highly musical. He enjoys listening to and playing brass band music. This musically questionable pastime is also proudly displayed by the pleasure killer with a puffed-up chest at fairs and events, as it is the only creative achievement this species has ever produced. The sociable pleasure killer also enjoys the company at the hunters’ regulars’ table. Naturally, the hallmarks of such a gathering include the well-known tasteless hunters’ jokes, such as: “The district hunt master is driving through the hunting grounds on a Sunday and spots two junior hunters and the gamekeeper, who appear to have killed a cat.” He steps out of the Land Rover and barks at the three of them:

"This is not how it's done!" Says the first, contritely: "That's right, I forgot that one isn't actually supposed to go hunting on Sundays." The second: "I'm even more at fault — I should only have been allowed to shoot the cat if it had been at least 300 metres from the house." Says the territory owner: "The greatest guilt is mine, because I forgot to make the cat disappear!" The thrill-killer can laugh at jokes like these for hours.

Religion:

Here too, the thrill-killer displays certain inconsistencies that have not yet been scientifically investigated. For example, during large-scale and solemnly conducted Hubertus masses, he hopes to receive God's blessing — knowing full well that the said saint, according to tradition, was as a young nobleman a passionately excessive hunter, who later recognized in all living beings creatures of divine origin and consequently devoted himself to their care and protection. Saint Hubertus then consistently rejected hunting and henceforth lived a killing-free life. But none of this troubles our little thrill-killer. After all, there are so few other opportunities (besides blowing heartily into a horn) to present oneself positively to society. So as a thrill-killer one can occasionally turn a blind eye and pay homage to a saint who recognized his own wrongdoing and wanted nothing more to do with hunting.

Trade:

Contrary to all claims to the contrary, the thrill-killer is under certain circumstances even capable of engaging in trade. Most preferably, of course, with the flesh of his victims murdered in a frenzy of hunting fever. Widespread among domestic thrill-killers is the sale “under the table.” Something that should really be of interest to the tax authorities…

Future:

The prospects for Homo Exanimalis do not look particularly rosy. In times of food abundance, scientifically grounded counterarguments, and the massive resistance of a disgusted and enlightened society, as well as pressure from animal protection circles, this species has a difficult time. The cunning infiltration of the thrill-killer, even at the highest levels of government, unfortunately makes it nearly impossible to permanently drive out this pest of the forest. So he will continue to wreak havoc and deceive the public with lies and deception, in order to slaughter defenceless creatures almost unhindered.