Tempting as he is, a delicious, summer fruit he is not.
I know he looks delicious, but please don’t eat him. He’s not a floating jelly strawberry with humongo eyes— he’s a squidt, and he mustn’t be eaten.
You may be thinking, well, I could just scoop him out of there and toss him right into my snacker. That, sir, would be a big mistake. He will ink you, get stuck in your throat, and you’ll probably die.
You may now be thinking, well, I could fish him out and smear him across my white bread and smush that piece of bread with another piece of bread that has been properly peanut butter’ed. No, señor, he isn’t smearable. Not even when left at room temperature.
Now you’re all frustrated, thinking, well, how’s about I grab that sucker by the tentacle and slather him with condensed milk and THEN toss him right into my snacker. Again, he will still ink you, get stuck in your throat, and you’ll probably die with a greyish combination of ink and condensed milk frothing at your lips.
Who would dare mouth-to-mouth you? Not I. Certainly not I. Especially after I so explicitly warned against this very outcome.
No. No. We must behave ourselves. Strawberry squidt is only to be admired in his glass tank for the time being. Then he will be poured back into the ocean where he belongs. A wild strawberry squidt can never be tamed. Nor can he be eaten without smiting the eater.
So please, kind gentleman, step away from the tank and cease fluttering your fingers as if you’re about to reach in imminently. As charge of this delicate creature, I must also mention that I am armed with a sword and eager to get to slashing. Thank you.