He crawled toward the lion—armed with nothing but a roll of toilet paper.
Surrounded by cameras and a wall of protectors, Mike staged what appeared to be an outrageous stunt, tiptoeing into the lion’s domain. The footage reveals every tense moment, every step closer to becoming a viral cautionary tale.
Let’s not pretend this was spontaneous. The team clearly knew what they were doing. No sane person walks into the jaws of a predator without some safety net. And Mike was lucky—because the lion wasn’t hungry. But luck doesn’t last forever.
Imagine if the lion had skipped breakfast. One careless movement, and Mike might have ended up not as the star of a YouTube video, but as the lion’s lunch.
So why do it? Was this a behavioral experiment? A daring test of predator psychology?
No. It seems to be “just for fun”—which makes it not just reckless, but absurd. Publishing this kind of spectacle crosses a line. Are we trying to inspire one-legged daredevils with dreams of internet fame?
Let’s call it what it is: a theatrical dance with danger, built on the assumption that the lion was full and uninterested. But provoking wild animals for entertainment is a game that eventually plays itself out—badly.
