Our guy Down Under: Do bears really drop from trees?

Drop bears could possibly be the weirdest Australian animal yet. This rare species of aggressive koala from Queensland has a curious way of establishing dominance over its territory.

The drop bear lurks in the tree canopy until an animal or human strays from a group and walks underneath it. Then the beast falls directly onto its quarry, often crushing the rib cage and snapping the neck of its victim. It will

remain lying flat on its pinned prey until someone comes to the rescue. At that point, the drop bear will clamber back into the tree. With larger specimens, cranes are often required to remove them from their (usually) flattened victims. Because they're a protected species in Australia, they must be released into the wild after they've been removed.

And that was all a lie, as you may have realized. It's a version of one of the best-known Aussie tall tales that bored Australians recite to confuse tourists, tease Americans and, in general, delight one another.

Australians have learned to capitalize on the rest of the world's ignorance of their weird creatures and strange things. In the case of the drop bears, we Americans naturally just assume that if something as weird as a platypus can exist, well, then so can a drop bear.

After surfing and caring about Aussie-rules football, this teasing hobby is big enough to be considered the country's third favorite national pastime. One student wrote on Facebook: "You know you're from Australia when you let Americans believe you ride around on kangaroos and own them as pets. In fact you encourage it, and why not? If Americans are dumb enough to believe it, all the more fun for us!"

On a cruise to the Great Barrier Reef, deckhand Ben told us we were heading to the place where they filmed "Finding Nemo." (Think about it. I didn't.) As we slowly figured out his joke, he laughed at the befuddled group of Europeans and Americans.

"Yeah, we make stuff up all the time," he said. "Never trust an Aussie."

So when he tried to tell us about the waterfall that turned on at 11 and the nonexistent family of giant cave turtles, we weren't fooled. Well, actually, I did check the cave for turtles. Just to be sure.

The stories can also be complex, and on the surface, half- believable. Our Aussie mate James Dowling, who lives in Melbourne, told us he liked to tell the Americans he met while studying in the States that his job back home was to shoo the kangaroos off the Sydney Harbour Bridge every morning.

He got multiple people with that one. "We just can't stop it," he said.

Sometimes, the teasing isn't as elaborate — they're just after a laugh at your expense.

At a Melbourne meat market, I inquired about buying some kangaroo steaks. It's delicious stuff.

"No mate, we don't have any," the butcher said matter-of-factly, with only the hint of a smile. "You can't catch them — they run too fast."

I'm sure they do, you jerk.

So if an Aussie ever starts talking about the monthly "no pants hour" strictly observed in all Aussie bars and restaurants, or you meet a taxi driver who also claims to be a "crocodile taxidermist," be very suspicious. Likewise, if some bloke tells you that Foster's is delicious, never buy a Foster's. The bartender will know you're an American who's been duped by one of his Aussie mates, and he'll probably start laughing.

As Amanda, a woman from La Trobe University's international office so eloquently put it, "We like to tease the piss out of you."

It's almost an affectionate gesture, I think. I see it as similar to beating up your little sister because you can't figure out how else to tell her you love her.

As if their country weren't a confusing place already, where cotton candy is "fairy floss" and green peppers are "capsicums," they have to go ahead and good-naturedly make our lives a little bit harder.

Since I felt stupid because we believed that Aussie bears drop out of trees, I decided I would strike back for Team America. I convinced two girls from Sydney that it was an American custom to dance a jig while singing "Happy Birthday."

Aaron Munzer bought his tickets for a five-month trip to Australia before he knew that it was home to huge crocodiles, venomous toads and 166 species of sharks. Now the 20-year-old New Paltz native is just hoping to get out alive. A student at Ithaca College, he sends monthly dispatches on his adventures Down Under. E-mail him at aaronmunzer@gmail.com.