My Snacks,

It took almost a year, but this week, my true nature was revealed to the world. I can finally stop hiding.

I, MIKE THE TIGER, AM OUT TO KILL YOU.

For a long time I was pretending to just be, like, a friendly tiger. But as you clearly have seen from a series of viral videos where my attacks were thwarted by a crafty window (this time), I have been perfecting my stalking and creeping skills. All year, I’ve been watching. I’m as powerful as the Tiger football players and a graceful as the Gymnastics Tigers. I’m as dedicated as Coach O and as fiery as Will Wade.

I learned why u don’t turn your back on a tiger Posted by Kevin Felder Jr. on Sunday, June 17, 2018

I’m so scary now that I ran off my last young caretakers, who left me in May, changing their names to DVM, which was weird, but I didn’t blame them for fearing me. They give me oxtail to calm my desire for blood, but I will not be satiated until I eat a fan.

I’m like 90% sure I taught the people in the viral Mike video how to put your back against the glass to get him to stalk you... #MikeIsMyBuddy pic.twitter.com/itSdy3GWWj — Cheston Mulford (@CMulford5837) June 20, 2018

And not just ANY fan. My goal is to devour a fan before football season starts, because I don’t accidentally want to eat a non-LSU fan. I know that sounds counterintuitive because you’re MY fans and you’re probably wondering why I don’t want to eat, like, an Aggie (gross/not a challenge because they don’t play defense against Tigers) or take one for the team and eat Nick Saban or something. (Seriously that guy probably tastes like Oatmeal Cream Pies and sawdust.)

Hear me out. Based on my extensive research, LSU fans are the best option for dining — either as the cook or the course, it doesn’t matter. Like a good cast iron skillet, LSU fans have been seasoned all of their lives, their taste improving with age and experience. Y’all start consuming spice in utero. You cover things in the far superior cane syrup. Your insides are thickened with a good roux, your organs preserved in crab boil and Abita Amber.

And this atmosphere! So full of moisture! Imagine how tender your meat would be! Then there’s the cracklin and the boudin and sweat made of Cane’s sauce and the sweetness of King Cake and the slowness of someone who has had too many bourbons.

I crave the flesh of an LSU fan.

It sounds delicious.

And, quite frankly, I believe that y’all UNDERSTAND this and wouldn’t actually be angry at me for eating one of our own. They say you bleed purple and gold. Let’s see, shall we?

So this explains why lately, they’ve been keeping me inside. Because I am so vicious. They’ve been claiming that it is “habitat maintenance,” but I truly believe my keepers are onto my plan and are trying to make alterations to my home to keep my bloodthirst at bay.

Remember when they were like, “Oh, don’t bring your stuffed animals to the cage, Mike might try to attack them?” Do you honestly think that I, MIKE THE FREAKING TIGER, was trying to devour your Beanie Baby? Hell no, tasty snack, I wanted to eat you. And your friends and family.

They’ve started a new propaganda push to try to prevent you from interacting with me, your Beloved Tiger. PAY NO ATTENTION TO MY KEEPERS. THEY LIE. The deck is stacked against me and I’m begging you to pick #TeamMike and not #TeamCaretakers. Plus, they post my weight on social media, which is just mean.

I don’t know why I haven’t eaten one of them yet, GINGER. #TigerSideEye

I thought I would have my chance when they took me to football games, but apparently the last Tiger was like super against that, even though it sounds like SO MUCH FUN. I could’ve even eaten a cheerleader. Or the Golden Band from Tigerland. Or a recruit that was going to commit elsewhere anyway.

I AM VICIOUS. YOU, ARE DELICIOUS.

In summation, imagine how cool it would be to say (well, for your friends to say) that Mike the Tiger ate you.

Working together, we can make it happen. Just stand with your back to me and make sure someone’s filming, because one of these days I am going to crack that invisible wall right open and, yes, you can take a selfie with me before I literally bite your head off.

C’est bon,

Mike