Original subtitles

In the wild, you gotta be gangster to survive.

This wobbegong shark is one cool trigger man.

His tail and markings arouse the precise amount

of curiosity needed.

Be there one, or be there many.

A gangster's gotta own their turf.

All attitude, no regrets.

The creatures of earth are wilder than you

could possibly imagine.

Among the fast and fearsome are the astoundingly crazy.

With strange behavior and outrageous fashion sense.

They're all in a competition to survive.

And weirdness always wins.

They walk through the valley of the shadow of death.

They prey on the weak and thrive on the meek.

There are no gangs more feared than the ones prone to

getting Old Testament crazy.

Behold the Locust Army.

Infamous for wreaking havoc across the globe.

The marauding clouds of locusts and the lone grasshopper are

two forms of the same creature.

Jekyll and Hyde.

The grasshopper is an introverted peacenik

early in life.

Enjoying the sedate existence of a passionate vegetarian.

To survive in the drought-prone lands he

prefers, he must attract the least amount of attention

and eat frugally.

But in nature, things can change quickly.

Rain transforms everything.

Powering a grand cycle of rebirth.

With plentiful food, the grasshopper grows

stronger and stronger.

No longer scavenging full time for each morsel.

Grasshoppers can breed round the clock.

Their numbers increase.

The more they socialise, the more serotonin is

released in their brains.

Triggering a wicked metamorphosis.

Their brains enlarge and their legs shorten.

The solitary grasshoppers transform into a voracious gang

of crop-destroying locusts.

The final molt gives them wings.

They now have all the tools to wreak havoc.

Pheromones from the leaders signal the rest to follow.

Biblical in proportion, they are now a plague.

They can number in their trillions, destroying

hundreds of tons of vegetation every single day.

The locusts hit every plant

that is vaguely edible.

If it's green, it's gone.

Eventually there is nothing left to consume.

Just as suddenly as they arrived, they disappear.

They lived fast, ate quick and died young.

The plains return to silence, leaving Mother Nature to restore

the years the locusts have eaten.

Everybody knows that gangsters hate a rat.

But for this wise guy, a rodent meal is a delicacy.

Rich in protein, the rat will satiate the serpent for ten

long months, before the viper must find his next easy mark.

It's finally time for the gaboon viper to feed once again.

At 22 pounds and six and a half feet in length, the viper has

an ingenious method to hide its heft from prey.

With a snakeskin jacket patterned with brown,

yellow and white, the gaboon blends into the

forest floor.

Finally, a mark approaches.

An unassuming quail, making the most of its

early evening foraging.

The viper readies the tools of his trade.

A pair of two inch long stilettos, hidden

in fleshy sheaths.

Finally, the victim is in range.

The fangs deliver the highest venom yield of

any terrestrial snake.

A deadly concoction that destroys blood cells and tissue.

Swallowing the bird is a huge job.

But the gaboon is having a quail of a time.

Opening his double hinged jaws to their full capacity,

shifting his windpipe so he can still breathe.

A made man, the gaboon sinks back into the jungle floor.

Wondering how long to wait before his necks shake down.

Deep in the heart of the Malaysian jungle,

there is a cave that seethes with subterranean

life and reeking guano.

Every day, the cave grows bigger, terraformed by

millions of bats and birds.

They call it Goh-Man-Tong.

The daily routine of Goh-Man-Tong, Borneo's

most infamous cave,

is millions of years in the making.

10am. Two million wrinkled-lipped

bats cling to the ceiling, waiting for the sunset.

For company, thousands of swiftlets living and

breeding in the darkness.

Both do two things continually.

Breathe and defecate.

Depositing acidic guano on the walls and ground below.

This crap-fest eats away at the cave floor.

While the carbon dioxide from millions of creatures, exhaling

en masse, rises to decay the cave's ceiling.

1pm...

As the guano piles even higher,

millions of cockroaches and trillions of bacteria get

to work, consuming the faeces as it rains down.

A sick bat has fallen from the ceiling.

The nutrients roaches can't get from bat dung, they

retrieve from the corpse.

6pm...

Goh-Man-Tong's night shift clocks on.

Taking to the wing, the bats are hungry.

Before they can forage, they must run the gauntlet.

Birds of prey wait at the cave's entrance.

This Brahminy kite soars into action.

The bats fly out in a dense stream to

confuse their predator.

Sacrificing manoeuvrability for speed.

In the end, it's just a matter of time.

As dawn breaks, the survivors will return to

the depths of Goh-Man-Tong.

Sculpting the very walls of this chamber of horrors

for millennia to come.

From its vantage, the future looks bright for

this baby Nazca booby.

Learning to fly, plunge diving for sardines with its pals.

And one day, finding a mate.

But, there are others just as attracted to boobies.

Drinking their blood behind their backs.

Welcome to the island of the vampire finch.

Wolf Island, one of the remotest of all Galapagos Islands.

Like finches on the mainland, this little finch's ancestor

fed on fruit, seeds, nectar and insects.

Out here though, food is limited.

The closest land is 800 miles away.

And these small birds don't have the wing power

to fly the distance.

Out of necessity, the finches developed a thirst for blood.

This vampire finch is parched.

Target locked.

With surgical precision, the finch makes a tiny cut.

Blood trickles down the victim's feathers and the vampire

laps up the precious fluid.

Early in their evolutionary partnership, the finches were

just removing parasites, so the boobies didn't seem to mind.

For these little feathered ghouls, the blood is a source

of protein to supplement their diet on the rocky outcrop.

These free-spirited mammals live a spinful life

here in Brazil's Fernando de Noronha Marine Park, a

gangster's paradise.

And this is one social gang, hanging out below

the waves or in the air.

Welcome to Spin City.

For this extended dolphin family, every leap and splash

serves a different purpose.

Whether shaking off parasites,

letting the family know which way to go,

or telling the others who's boss,

these aerial acrobatics are also a language of love.

The female takes to the air, letting the males

know she's ready to breed.

But these spinners are also swingers.

Every guy's got fin in the game.

Today she'll mate with several different

partners, with good reason.

One year later, and the female has produced a calf.

The pair share a strong bond.

For the suite of last year's partners, any one of them could

be the youngster's father.

They'll all work to protect the calf, and any others

they may have sired.

As the calf grows, he soon gets into the spin of things.

An unconventional heir that loves the air.

Borneo's elephants are one of a kind.

Only fifteen hundred left in the wild.

These are the smallest elephants on the planet.

But if there was a prize for family spirit, this gang of

pint-sized pachyderms would take the trophy.

It's a very wet day in the Malaysian jungle.

Over six inches of rain in twenty-four hours swells the

island's rivers and streams.

Old news to a species highly evolved to

live in these jungles.

Led by the oldest and largest female, the matriarch, this

group depend on each other to survive.

Swollen rivers are usually no obstacle for elephant gangs.

But today is different.

There's a newcomer to consider.

Just days old, he hasn't even had his first swimming lesson.

An older cousin rumbles in first, gouging out a clear

path for those to follow.

Aunts and sisters are next.

But the little one hesitates.

His mom, the matriarch, coaxes him in.

The undercurrent is strong.

His trunk is not yet strong enough to hold up as a snorkel.

The herd prop him up.

Twenty-two yards across, for a small calf,

this river might as well be the Amazon.

But with guidance from the family, instinct kicks in and

the calf finds his groove.

Solid ground.

This crossing is the first of thousands the calf

will make in his lifetime.

Thanks to the protection of the herd, he'll one day grow

into his tusks as one of the most unique elephant

species on Earth.

Peer into this face and you are seeing the world as it

was fifty million years ago.

That's how long this bird has stalked these forests.

It's known as the most dangerous bird alive.

The last surviving dinosaur.

Living in northern Australia and

New Guinea's ancient rainforests,

the cassowary, like the

love child of a peacock and a velociraptor, is a

dangerous collage of weirdness.

But just because they're badass bush bandits doesn't mean

they can't be kick-ass fathers.

The cassowary is undoubtedly one of nature's greatest dads.

This one is preparing for a first date.

And if it works out, he's gonna have his hands full

for the next twelve months.

What a sight!

His girl is dressed to kill.

One swift kick with her talons and she can disembowel him.

So he plays coy.

He's always had a thing for taller birds.

What comes next comes natural.

Months later, he may be single and his girl may be off with

other eligible bachelors, doing her bit for the species

according to her socials.

But he's not alone.

For the next twelve months, it's Dad's job to

school them in all things cassowary.

Lesson one.

Cassowaries are frugivores.

So over 150 types of forest fruit make for

breakfast, lunch and dinner.

Lesson two.

Keeping cool.

A luxurious bath and a cool drink is just

the start you need.

Lesson three.

Stay safe.

Try as he might, he can't always keep his

eyes peeled for danger.

Protecting all the kids at once.

But when in doubt, run guys!

A year later, despite his best efforts, only

two chicks survive.

Dad's done all he can.

And now it's up to them to find their path and

fulfil their own destiny.

#BestDadEver

When your family has been evolving for over

four hundred million years,

weird cousins are gonna be a thing.

Sharks are one of the oldest gang of animals on the planet,

seemingly with one for every occasion.

True giants that oddly eat only microscopic fish.

Mallet-shaped gawkers with an appetite for stingrays.

Sharks with leopard spots.

And these guys.

Then there's the deep thinkers, who never say much and always

seem to be watching you.

This is Cousin Wobbegong.

Tucked in their shallow water caves around Australia and

Indonesia, the world view of this tasseled wobbegong is not

unlike that of a Zen hermit.

Like some of his cousins, he doesn't need to

keep moving to breathe.

He pumps water over his gills with his cheek muscles,

keeping his blood oxygenated.

Covered in mottled skin and weed-like tassels.

He looks more like the coral surrounding him than what he is.

A deadly shark.

Flicking his tail, he mimics the movements of smaller fish.

When he attacks, he does so with explosive speed.

His gaping mouth alters the water pressure,

transforming into a vacuum chamber,

consuming meals in a fraction of a second.

Everything must pass, including the small fish.

The wobbegong, in Zen balance, wastes no time

thinking otherwise.

The schnoz on this male monkey is one for the ages.

A nose that's the longest of all primates,

complemented by a massive pot belly.

But for females, these attributes are dead sexy.

In fact, if his nose and belly impress, he might even

attract a whole gang of female groupies.

Roaming the jungles together as he fathers children at will.

It may sound like a cult, but it's just the way this

guy and his harem roll.

The male proboscis monkey has a weirdly cushy marital life.

But once every year, the monsoon pours water

over the whole affair.

Six inches of rain in just a single day spells trouble.

The gang usually dine on tender leaves that grow

at the edge of rivers.

But when the waterways flood, the troop must journey for

food via aerial highway.

Arriving at the river, the male keeps watch as the

youngsters cross first.

The females follow.

But the swollen river has a hidden danger.

Crocodiles are proboscis monkeys' greatest predators.

The hunter waits for a monkey misstep.

Close. Oh, good recovery.

But the next young female miscalculates her jump.

She's completely unaware of the imminent danger.

But the male proboscis monkey spots the croc.

His nose amplifies his alarm calls.

The female now knows she must get out of there quick.

Just in the nick of time.

Luckily, the alpha male has a nose for danger.

Life in the tropics gets a lot of good PR in the brochures.

Warm twinkling meadows of seagrass and colourful locals

cavorting amongst the mangroves.

But the truth is, tropical waters have

some rough neighbourhoods and shady characters.

This crab is either incredibly brave or remarkably foolish.

Because foraging in these vacant sand flats is a

great way to get mugged.

By this guy.

This coconut octopus has captured dinner.

And blown his cover.

A risky move in this food chain.

Hideouts are hard to come by.

So he improvises.

With hundreds of thousands of neurons running

down each tentacle, the coconut octopus literally

thinks on his feet.

A plastic cup could keep him safe.

But sharks aren't stupid.

What's a guy gotta do to find a hideout around here?

Clamshells? No, this has potential.

Faced with two options, octopus street smarts come naturally.

Two shells are better than one.

It appears to have a plan.

Now put it to the test.

This crab has no idea that the clamshells hide its nemesis.

This kind of caper is all about timing.

A 31 mile per hour jetburst gave the crab no chance.

Powerful tentacles crunch through the shell.

Then an injection of venom dissolves the crab's innards.

Rare octopuses that stalk the open sand flats work

hard for their quarry.

But this kind of tool use means they work smart too.

Joining chimpanzees, monkeys, dolphins and crows in an

ever-expanding gang of non-human tool masters.

The bugs of New Caledonia have it extraordinarily good.

This island, it seems, is an insectoid paradise.

But the wood-borer beetle ain't buying it.

As it feasts, it deposits its eggs and larvae

deep within the trees.

Protected from the world in wooden vaults.

But there's a roving gang of safe-crackers who have perfected

the art of the larvae heist.

Introducing the New Caledonian Crow.

This bird has never met a code it can't crack.

When nature throws curveballs like, say, a tough nut,

this egghead has all the smarts to find a solution.

Too easy.

But busting open a wooden vault full of protein-rich

beetle larvae is a challenge worthy of his

pilfering genius.

With powers of reasoning rivaling a seven-year-old

child, his keen ears pick up sounds of the

prize within.

Chipping away at the wood is tedious,

especially when your bill isn't reinforced for the impact

like a woodpecker's beak.

This problem needs a smart solution.

A carefully selected tool might be just the

key to this conundrum.

Wielding a twig in his bill, he inserts it into the tree cavity.

He's fishing for grub.

Small pointing eyes help him maneuver the stick within.

It helps that his bill is smaller than other crows and

doesn't obstruct his vision.

Prodding over and over, he irritates the grub.

He can feel it biting back on the stick.

He's snagged a big one.

Like any angler knows, the proof of the catch is when

you've reeled the fish in.

There won't be any catch and release with this one,

because on Planet Weird, there's no bag limit.