Imagine you're a young bird. From a distance, you watch people walk alongside rails, yet they're not accompanying their walking with their hand on the rail, and you ask yourself why. You've been coming to this spot for a few months and never has anyone not used the rail. Finally, you've had enough with speculating and have decided it's time to find out for yourself. Cautiously, you fly past the rail then come back around like a plane has missed its landing. As you set your eyes on your destination, you land on it. Suddenly, you realize why those people who were walking weren't using the rail. You hear a fellow bird chirp, "Hah, look at Tom, that amateur, he's in wet paint! Made that mistake myself in '99. The rookies always fall for that one."
At any public place, where there is freshly painted objects, there will be a sign saying, "Wet Paint," indicating that there is...wet paint. And at the Ala Moana Mall, they'll even add "wet paint" in Japanese! But as far as I know, birds are illiterate; there could be some freak genius bird studying chemistry and writing novels with its beak in some remote place with an old white dude in a lab coat who has circular prescription glasses and hasn't shaved for days, but I'm gonna go ahead and say that's not happening.
Let's not take the fact that we can read and write for granted.
Flushing the toilet,