You’re in a desert, walking along in the sand, when all of a sudden you look down and see a tortoise. It’s crawling toward you. You reach down and you flip the tortoise over on its back. The tortoise lays on its back, its belly baking in the hot sun, beating its legs trying to turn itself over, but it can’t. Not without your help. But you’re not helping. Why is that?
…All right, now that the spambots are gone, let’s talk desert tortoise. You know turtles, right? And you know deserts? Very good. Well, marry those concepts and you basically get the desert tortoise.
The desert tortoise constantly carries a defensive shell (see Fashion sense).
It is smart (see Weaknesses).
The desert tortoise is famously slow. Not mentally, mind you. The tortoise’s brain is still sharp thanks to its regular use of crosswords and other kinds of puzzles and games. In fact, it is thought to be good enough to be a grandmaster of chess, but it has never made it out to a high-level competitive event to prove it.
Its body, though. That thing moves like molasses over peanut butter. What I’m trying to say here is the desert tortoise is sticky.
Number of legs
Wikipedia article status
The neutrality of the desert tortoise article is disputed.
The desert tortoise, like all tortoises and turtles, is a never-nude. It wears its shell at all times – even in the shower.* Cartoons would like you to think that the desert tortoise stores an entire studio apartment’s worth of belongings in there, but this is a lie. There is only room for one accent lamp and a small sectional.
What if it fought a bear?
Two hops and the desert tortoise is dispatched. Three if it has wings.
Is it noble?
The desert tortoise, due to its long life and its voyage to the reaches of space between 1908 and 1981, has seen things you wouldn’t believe. Attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion. C-beams glittering in the dark near the Tannhäuser Gate. All those moments will be lost in time, like tears in rain.
*Just kidding. It takes baths.