As if the world isn’t dangerous enough, now we have to watch out for turtles falling from the sky.
Don’t believe me? I don’t blame you. But consider the astonishing death of the great Greek playwright Aeschylus for even he couldn’t have dreamed up this. Of all the outlandish and bizarre ways that a fellow can possibly meet their untimely demise, few can top the tale of how Aeschylus, the great master of tragedy, met his own tragic end. Believe it or not the poor fellow was killed by a falling turtle of all things! I’m sure it wasn’t a great day for the turtle either as it was scooped up by a hungry eagle looking to make a meal of it but needed to break him open first. So that improvising eagle took to the sky with his turtle dinner in tow looking for a suitable rock to bash that turtle on where it spotted Aeschylus’s shiny bald head instead. I got to hand it to that eagle who was a remarkable shot because he chonked that bewildered turtle square on Aeschylus’s noggin, killing him! No idea what became of the turtle who undoubtedly met fame and fortune by becoming Aeschylus’s last great star of his last great tragedy. He probably bought himself his own private Italian villa where he lived out the rest of his days happily ever after and signing autographs to anybody who wanted one.
