Legend of the Animal-Themed Superhero

Lion meets a tiger, a liger is born.

Lion meets a liger, a liliger is born.

Then a man and a liliger meet in mystical confluence at the roots of the Nile… and the Liligerman awakeneth.


“Run, guys! We’re done poaching here because that’s the expletive-fucking mystical Liligerman there silhouetted by the rising African sun!”

“The what now? That’s some Kraut stripper, innit?”

“Upp deine Arsch, Lochkopf.”

“Sorry, Guido.”

“Was ist ein ‘Lili German’? Ich habe über es nie gehört…”

“It’s a proctector of the savannah or something like. Half man, three-eighths lion, one-eighth tiger.”

“Just one eighth a tiger? Pussy.”

“But the lion—”

“Lions are lazy scavengers. I ain’t afraid of no rotten zebra-munchers!”

“BEHOLD AND QUAKE! IT IS I, THE LILIGER— what do you mean, ‘scavengers’? Lions are the kings of the savannah, proud, noble beasts—”

“And generally speaking monarchy is shit, pride is overrated and nobility is just a leftover from the days of a hereditary tyranny. Kings are inbred, useless, calcified morons; lions are lazy and eat plague-dead zebras and fart around all day long.”

“Oh no they don’t! Who is this idiot anyway, why’re you poking around with a joyless twit like him?”

“Er ist unser guide.”

“No, you’re Guido, uh, he’s not good with the English. This is our, uh, our getting-us-to-places-we-want-to-go person, Matt. Matt, Liligerman, the bane of poachers; Liligerman, Matt, a poacher.”

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Matt.”

“Likewise, Mr. German. A nice costume, even if too royal for my tastes. Genuine lion fur?”


“Look, Master! The footsteps of a man… become those of a liliger!”

“The steps of what now?”

“The son of Master Lion and the son of Master Lion and Master Tiger!”

“How is that even possible?”

“Well, Master, lions and tigers can interbreed. Numerous zoos have examples of—”

“I mean, master lion, and the son of a lion and a tiger. I know homosexuality is natural, but are you telling me homosexual conception is natural? What hole would that even—”

“Must not ask that, Master. Will anger the Great Spirit!”

“Look— can you stop that?”

“Stop what, Master?”

“This ‘Great Spirit’ nonsense. That’s not how you do evangelism.”

“But the Papal College of Bringing the Sword and/or the Word to the Heathen—”

“Has an average age of ninety, and last bought a travel guide a hundred years ago. You’re from Frankfurt, for God’s sake. You’re not connecting with the locals.”

“Not even with the body paint?”

“Especially with the body paint.”

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