Reporting from Katubya, Zambia-- Here's how to pitch this (true) story to Hollywood: Ordinary guy named John, ordinary Sunday, cycling home into a setting sun. Monster roars out of the bushes!

John abandons his bike, flees in terror. The creature smashes the bicycle, catches him in a few short strides, grabs him by the shirt. But he slides out of his shirt and falls to the ground.

It picks him up again and he slips out of his trousers. Naked, too afraid to even scream, he scrambles away. But he doesn't get far. The shrieking monster smashes him against a tree.

Camera pans to an elderly woman approaching, unaware of the danger.

Within minutes she'll be lying on the path, crushed.

The Hollywood twist? These people live in a bizarre universe where the rampaging monsters (and there are thousands of them) are protected and the people are not.

Cut to the killer creatures grazing peacefully (cue close-up of gentle, intelligent eyes with 3-inch lashes) along with their unbearably cute offspring.

Of course, to sell it, you'd need to change a few details: Lose the African villagers; make them suburban Americans. And the monster couldn't be that beloved giant, the elephant. Who would believe it?

::