Dear Shark Man,
Is it OK if I call you that? I don’t know your name. But I wish I did. I have seen a lot of things on the NYC subway — a man in a horse costume, a woman who plays “The Chicken Dance” on a recorder, a man who panhandles with a live snake in a hemp sack (he’s raising money to become a professional snake handler) — but never have I seen something quite this outrageous. According to these incriminating photos and an anonymous tipster, you were spotted on the J train around 1 a.m. with a live baby shark in a cooler. And this wasn’t some kind of risqué performance art. No. You, Shark Man, were trying to sell the shark for $100, claiming that it had bitten you in the ass at Coney Island. How dare it! I hope your ass is OK, by the way.
I’ve got to hand it to you. This is the most advanced act of subway hustling I’ve ever witnessed in nearly a decade as a New Yorker. If you haven’t already been apprehended by the MTA or NYPD or ripped a new asshole by PETA, we should get together sometime. I’m hoping you could use the $100 you made off the baby shark (I really hope the thing lived long enough for you to sell it) to take me out for a nice fish dinner and we can discuss safer ways for you to make a buck.