A scrappy handler discovers that the wild, unruly beasts everyone else writes off can be shaped into headline acts. As the creatures rise from chaos to stage-ready spectacle, the handler must balance fierce ambition with the bonds that make the transformation possible.
Reynolds, please have someone bring the truck around. $50,000. I'll take the tiger. right. If you really know how to care for him, he's yours. You can buy him, but you can't take him out of here. If that crazy tiger attacks a visitor, who's responsible? An animal has a problem, and your first instinct isn't to find out why. It's to call
crazy? I follow the proper care standards. We spray water to cool him down, run the missiles all day and keep up with food and sanitation. That's your standard? The floor never dries and there's standing water in the corners? The South is already more humid than the North. A Siberian tiger isn't built for this
climate and you're spraying water and running missiles every day. You're basically building a mosquito nursery. He gets bitten even when he sleeps. When he all he can do is rub against the bars until the wounds get worse and you scare him with electric probs. Even if there are mosquitoes, that shouldn't make him act like this.
Why don't you move in there and try it? See how you like getting bitten from head to toe every single day. Uncle Mike, could you get me some wound cleaning supplies?