Would you care to share your "what the f*** is that hanging onto me fly?!!" moments with us?
I'll get the ball rolling with a photo of Mr Scratch this morning, less than enamoured when a perch of 3lb 6oz saw fit to molest one of his bijou creations:
He was just about ready to chap it on the scone, when he noticed its sad eyes looking up emploringly as if to say "have mercy on me angler, for I am merely a coarse fish, and whilst I recognise that your offerings were intended for a nobler being than I, base curiosity drove me to intervene. Return me to my pitiful existence amongst the stones and I will trouble you no more."
And thus the striped pest was spared.