Just when you thought it was safe to get out of the water

An updated version of Jaws

All the hoopla over the 50th anniversary of Jaws got me thinking that we need a sequel, about the predators who should currently be giving us nightmares. I’d call it Claws.

Here’s the plot:

A group of average American citizens are enjoying a day at a public beach on a hot summer afternoon. Although not wealthy, powerful or well-connected, they have been promised better times ahead and feel reasonably optimistic as they cavort in the water.

But on shore, disguised as “lifeguards,” are billionaires, tech bros, corporate shysters, conspiracy theorists, lobbyists and other profiteers and con artists intent on enriching themselves, public interest be damned.

Suddenly, without warning, all the hot dogs at the beach concessions turn green with bacteria!

“Where are the food inspectors?’’ the bathers cry.

“They were fired by DOGE to eliminate waste, fraud and abuse,” the lifeguards say. “And, by the way, this entire shoreline has been sold to ExxonMobil and Chevron. But until drilling commences in the next few days, you may continue to use the beach — for the low, low price of $99 an hour.”

The beachgoers, unable to afford those fees, are headed for the shore when, on the horizon, something rockets high into the sky and explodes with frightening force. It’s the national debt, soaring into the stratosphere as a result of “big, beautiful” tax cuts for the rich. The explosion strips the swimsuits from the bathers’ bodies, but due to tariffs, they can’t afford to replace them.

The bathers are appalled, in part because they are now naked and in part because all that bare skin reveals that quite a few of them have measles.

“There, there,” the lifeguards say. “Just eat fewer preservatives and those rashes will clear right up. If not, well, maybe God is punishing you for not being a Christian nationalist.”

Just then, the stirring strains of a military band are heard nearby. It’s a parade! For the mayor, who just loves to preen in front of heavy equipment. There are fire trucks, police cars, garbage trucks, snowplows, riding lawn mowers — and a phalanx of security forces who abruptly wade into the water and begin demanding citizenship papers from the nude bathers. Who, of course, have none.

A few bathers are arrested on grounds that they look vaguely like immigrants. Everyone else is told to get dressed before they are charged with public indecency.

The bathers are shocked at how their fortunes have turned. “What’s next,” they ask. “A war?”

“Well, now that you mention it . . .’’ says the mayor as he departs for a round of golf.

Suddenly, a huge dorsal fin appears in the water close to shore.

“Shark!” cries one lifeguard, having momentarily forgotten that his role in society is to exploit the helpless.

“Run for your lives,” yells another.

But the bathers just stand there, unfazed.

“C’mon, people!” another lifeguard shouts. “Are you not afraid?”

The bathers look at the “lifeguards,” then look back at that menacing fin.

“I think,” says one bather, “we can expect more mercy from the shark.”