Those snooty lobsters. Think they're better than everyone, walking around with their "noses" in the air, feelers waving dismissively.
Do they even say "Hello" as they pass? Yeah, right. They keep on walking, eyes closed. They won't even acknowledge you, you know? Like you're not even good enough to be in the same room with them, breathing the same precious oxygen. Their damn top hats just hanging on for dear life.
There they go, holding those walking sticks that probably cost more than a month's rent for that crummy closet you call home.
Clutching their champagnes, muttering about the markets, they pass by like every boss who ever made you feel two feet tall.
All because they can hop into pots of boiling water and cook themselves from the inside out.
Big deal. Doesn't prove anything.
Addendum: Another natty crustacean gentleman lording it over us mere mortals! He's from the Key West Shrimp House of, naturally, Madison, Indiana. (Thanks to Dr. Namey McNamerson for the photo.)