“United we stand, divided we fall.”

This ancient adage is particularly true when you have no one around to keep you from falling face-first in the gutter after you've been ejected from the bar you've spent the last 48 cirrhotic hours at. But these words hint at a much deeper meaning beyond having people around to keep your drunk ass upright and uninjured.

This saying also means that people are much stronger as a collective than they are as individuals. It might be difficult to see at a glance, but this hidden message of strength-in-numbers is right there, buried deep within the cryptic words. It may take a few careful perusals to get, but take my word for it, that's what that saying means.

If all of humanity united to work towards a common goal (like, say, the annihilation of our enemies), we would have a formidable force at our disposal to carry out such an extermination. But what if not only all humans united, but all animals joined with us as well? Why, we'd be unstoppable! I mean, think of it, we could seriously conquer the world! One thing but stands in our way (hint: it has scales).

Reptiles are cold-blooded, and I don't just mean that in a physiological sense. They really are heartless bastards too.

We only need to look back at history to see that when people and animals have worked together for the common good (of humans), amazing things have been accomplished (for humans). Like when we harnessed the power of horses for a brief time, promptly retiring them with our many thanks when cars came along. Or when we discovered the existence of faithful retriever dogs to open our fridge doors and deliver our beers to us while we lay lifeless on sofas, eyes glazed and mouths slightly agape. And who could forget all the honey produced by those suckers the bees, who willingly give us their vomit (or is it spermatozoa?) to consume by the mouth-load.

But there are a lot of animals that have not yet come to the party. If all of these creatures (except for reptiles, the reasons for which will become very clear very, very soon) could put aside their differences and petty beefs with us noble, blameless humans, we really could work together to destroy our common foe, the reptiles (see?!).

Humans have never united with our friends in the animal kingdom on this scale to achieve something as great as crushing our enemies who also (technically) happen to reside in the animal kingdom. And frankly I think it's high time that changed.

Reptiles have been the natural predator and enemy of all that is good and holy for as long as they've been around, which is longer than some of us. First they were in the form of massive dinosaurs, which had two types: herbisaurs and carnosaurs. Now in present day we have littler dinosaurs that we call lizards and snakes. They are all equally treacherous, disgusting and annoying.

And I cannot neglect to mention the water-dinosaurs of today, like crocodiles, alligators and caimans. Don't be fooled by the caiman. It's nowhere near as laidback and chill as its name suggests.

Though amphibians aren't really reptiles, I've lumped them in with those we will crush because there doesn't seem to be a discernible difference between them that I can see at a glance, so they might as well just be reptiles. And hey, let's add anything with wet-looking skin while we're at it (sorry otters).

We will grant sanctuary to all of the lizard men and other human-hybrid lab experiments the government has been keeping under wraps.

Now I'm not saying we should destroy them all, just mostly all of them. We will want to keep some of reptiles around as living trophies to remind us of how we really creamed them in battle. But we will only do so if those defeated ground-bellies wave little white flags and pledge fealty to us. As they cannot speak, a simple nod or poke out of the tongue will be sufficient form of consent to their willing subjugation. We'll need to start production of tiny manacles right away.

We're going to need all animals to work together if we're going to pull this off. Centipedes and scorpions will need to put aside whatever their differences are, as will cats and every other animal they claim dominion over. I'm hoping that we'll get the gorillas and sharks to agree to a truce, because seeing an ape riding a shark then jump off and throw the fish like a be-toothed missile would be a real dream come true for me. And for most humans, if I'm being completely honest.

The gila monsters might pose a bit of a challenge for us to eliminate, as will the geckos and skinks. But the salamanders should be a piece of cake, as I'm sure you well know.

There are some reptiles that can be spared if we really want. A few of the frogs and other less frightening guys that look like characters from my childhood. But turtles be warned, you have a choice: join your brothers the tortoises and perish, or side with your distant cousins the hermit crabs and continue your gentle peregrinations for another day (because tomorrow I might change my mind!).

Reptiles are cold-blooded, and I don't just mean that in a physiological sense. They really are heartless bastards too. But I cannot say that all reptiles are bad. An alligator saved my life once by eating a county sheriff who was chasing me through the murky Louisiana bayous to arrest me on gator-poaching charges. During the time I was lost in those labyrinthine waterways, that trusty gator kept me alive with fresh water it carried to me in its mouth. He was one of the good ones, but he could have easily bit my head clean off as I lapped water from his bear-trap of a open jaw. Thankfully he didn't, but how was I to know that?!

We will grant sanctuary to all of the lizard men and other human-hybrid lab experiments the government has been keeping under wraps. Though they might have to change their professions from “test subject” to “gladiator,” and duke it out in a limestone area for our entertainment. Don't worry, we'll give them armor and weapons to make sure they're protected/look badass.

Humans and reptiles aren't so different. But our slight differences are absolutely insurmountable, and they must be destroyed to preserve our idea of normalcy. I mean, have you ever seen a lizard lick its own eyeball? Yuck!

Reptiles have given us a few things to be thankful for. White snakes, chameleons and goannas have inspired great song titles and band names throughout the years. But the time of the reptile has ended, much like the “Crocodile Rock.” To make this thought into a palpable metaphor, the reptiles are Elton John's narrator and we are the foreign guy that Susie leaves him for.

Also, Susie is the Earth. You hear me, reptiles! Susie is the Earth!