Little Urchins!

Ten years ago we lived in the village and had some extraordinarily nosey children living next door.
On one of their many invasions, as usual, they asked us what we were cooking for dinner. Ever since our first experience, and a fair several after that, we’d been aware that this was their way of inviting themselves to share our scoff in a “we don’t know what that tastes like” kind of a way. As a diversionary tactic, we asked what they’d had. They’d had sea-urchins. We didn’t know what sea-urchins were like and they were so horrified by this hole in our experience that a tray of sea-urchins was brought round forthwith. A sea-urchin is a horrid thing made of razor-wire and welding gloves are required to open them.
The children asked us if we had any bread. Yes, we had bread.
The children asked us if we had any olive oil. Yes, we had olive oil.
The children asked us if we had any lemon juice. Yes, we had lemon juice.
We were then shown that to eat sea-urchin you must first open it (wearing welding gloves) Then tip away the watery contents. Then dip your delicious fresh bread into the delicious olive-oil and lemon-juice and finally swipe that around inside the remains of the crustacean in order to acquire a tiny smear of salty gritty pink goo from inside.
Actually, bread with oil and lemon is very nice, adding the salty gritty pink stuff and getting pierced by a dead sea creature made of razor wire does nothing to enhance the experience. We had been unwittingly mugged again.

I honestly believe that sea-urchins were the original inspiration for daleks. A nasty hard armoured coating with a tiny amount of living blob inside. Sea-urchins have the advantage of probably coping rather better with both staircases and sea-water, they don't use sink-plungers as facial features and they aren't verbally threatening. But "not quite as nasty as daleks" is all they have in their favour.