The Bad Breath of Lions and Weird Choices for Life and Death

I imagine myself on the African Savanna, chased by a lion, nowhere to hide, no tree to climb on.

Death is imminent.

The lion is going to attack me and tear me to pieces.

I know it is the end. 

I can hear it breathe behind me.

I imagine what will happen. it’s going to jump me, grab my neck and suffocate and kill me. 

But in doing so, I am going to have to smell its notoriously bad breath.

What a disgusting way to go.