These cranky creatures are skeleton shrimp.

And they’re always looking for a fight.

Their bodies are – on first  impression – confusing.

There’s no shortage of  appendages: eighteen in total.

And that’s all in a body a few  centimeters or less.

They belong   to a group of animals called amphipods,  which in Latin, means “feet on all sides.” Each set has a particular purpose: breathing,  grasping, moving, fighting, feeling and feeding.

These four paddle-shaped gills  pull oxygen from the water.

Six rear legs anchor the shrimp.

These limbs are prehensile,   like a monkey’s tail, grasping onto  seagrass, algae, fishing nets – you name it.

This crustacean uses its front claws to  inchworm around like a – well, like an inchworm.

Good thing, since they’re not  the most graceful swimmers.

These wicked-looking front claws are  called gnathopods, which literally means   “jaw feet.” Two are big and two are small.

The bigger pair are perfect for fighting.

It’s mostly the guys doing all the boxing.

They’re  competing for – you guessed it – the ladies.

Sometimes their fights become deadly, and it might  be from more than just the blows or sharp claws.

Scientists are investigating whether  some of the male shrimp are packing   venom in those gnarly gnathopods.

If that’s true,   they likely deliver the venom through these  microscopic pores on the tips of the claws.

But these shrimp have a softer side too.

Literally.

Right after the female molts,   when her new exoskeleton is pliable,  the much larger male takes a shot at   love – or at least reproduction.

That’s the  best time for him to fertilize her eggs.

If the timing isn’t right for her, she socks  him with a quick one-two.

Once fertilized,   the female keeps the developing eggs close,  aerating them in her brood pouch.

After a week   or less they hatch.

They’re real clingy.

Yep,  all those squirmy white things are hatchlings.

Let’s just say, mom doesn’t  get a lot of “me” time.

And how about these accessories on their head?

Each shrimp has four antennae.

These two are for   sensing.

No surprise there.

But these two  are different, lined with comb-like setae,   they sift food from the water.

They  scrape their feathery antennae with   the smaller set of gnathopods and  shove the bounty into their mouths.

Skeleton shrimp are not picky eaters.

A lot of the  time, they’re detritivores, which is a fancy way   of saying they eat little bits of dead stuff.

This  is how these scrappy crustaceans play a crucial   role in the food chain, as they busily break  down detritus for smaller plants and animals.

And on the flip side, they themselves are  tasty bundles of energy for fish and crabs.

In the web of life, there’s a place for everyone.

Even the most pugnacious,  pesky and peculiar among us.