Potoo and the descent into madness.
You wouldn’t think it to look at them, but they have a sweetly melancholic, bluesy call for attracting a mate that earns them the name Pour-me-one.
I doubt they’d even be allowed in a bar. They’d probably do something crazy like stab people with a bar stool because they remind him of his mother.
Images: Patty McGann/Reinaldo Aguilar/jpeter4100.Rob Jarvis/Yanayacu Biological Station