Welcome Aboard! Glad you found us too! great place here, with all sorts of backgrounds and disciplines to draw on, never be afraid to ask a question.
Just remember, you like Pirates, Cubits, you'd love to have a wombat as a pet and Voltage should only come in the 120v 60hz variety, and you'll get along just fine.
*animal rights rant*
you two are twisted for thinking about cooking wombats. wombats are such cute little creatures and should never be thought of as food.
*end animal rights rant*
ok now you can tell i'm totally an animal rights activist. now i'm going to go sit quietly and hope war doesn't break out.
Thanks Logos... A quote from "Night of the Wombat"... the story of what happens when you are nice to wombats...
"...It was then that I felt a gentle nudge from behind. I instantly knew who it must be, and was not a bit surprised to turn and find Rocky. I stood up and slowly backed away from the wombat. Donna had warned me the week before to never turn your back and to never run if threatened by a womby, but to back up carefully and offer him your boots to bite. Rocky did not bite, however. He went between my feet a few times, back and forth with no particular menace. It was almost as if he was toying with his prey. I continued to back up, holding out the flimsy yellow pail out as if that might deter him. It all seemed very surreal, like a David Lynch movie. I wasn’t really afraid, but was just trying to figure out how to get out of such a jam.
We had not gotten very far in our peculiar dance before Rocky became aggressive. He started to bite. Hard. My pail went flying and I remembered another tip Donna had given me for handling an enraged wombat: grab him under his front arms, pick him up, and hold him until you can safely drop him. Unfortunately, this tactic was designed for an area that you can get out of or into, like an enclosure or a house. We were in the middle of the bush, hundreds of feet from the house. I did manage to pick him up, and sit down, huffing and puffing, with my struggling mass of very angry flesh and fur. My next thought was, of course, “What do I do with him now?”
As I sat in the dark with a wombat that wanted to destroy me, I saw that there was a tree a short distance away. I knew I couldn’t hold onto him for very long, and I decided to chuck Rocky aside and make a run for the tree. I flung him aside and made a desperate dash for the tree. As I leapt upward into the fork, Rocky sunk his powerful teeth into the back of my upper right leg. (Note to self: next time: grab wombat, get to tree, fling wombat. Not grab wombat, fling wombat, run to tree). I somehow managed to shake him off and clamor up a precarious perch, only a few feet off the ground. I didn’t know if wombats could climb or not. If so, I was history..."
For the sick ones out there, you can see the disgusting close up pictures here and here.
Thus the reason all rescued wombats should be fattened and made into pie, never release them, they will try to kill you.