Promising with its title the three things true-crime junkies most crave, Tiger King: Murder, Mayhem and Madness is perhaps the wildest series to ever premiere on Netflix—a statement that will only sound hyperbolic to those who haven’t yet checked out Eric Goode and Rebecca Chaiklin’s seven-part tale of feral animal insanity, and the murder-for-hire plot it eventually begat. Blessed with a cornucopia of jaw-dropping characters, details and developments, it would be totally unbelievable if it weren’t verifiably true.

Consequently, I can’t remember ever laughing so hard, and consistently, at a work of non-fiction.

Filmed over the course of five years by Goode and Chaiklin, Tiger King (debuting March 20) is the rare multi-part streaming offering that wholly justifies its extended length. Quite simply, there’s way too much craziness to condense here, and it all begins with the individual after whom the proceedings are named: Joe Schreibvogel, better known to the world as Joe Exotic, the self-proclaimed Tiger King. A gay meth head polygamist with a bleach-blond mullet, a healthy collection of piercings and tattoos, a Fu Manchu ‘stache, and a holster belt around his waist for some of his innumerable firearms, Joe Exotic looks like something out of Mad magazine. What makes Joe truly special, however, isn’t just his appearance, or his endless profanity, or his severe narcissism; it’s his love of wild cats (tigers, lions, panthers, etc.), which he owned by the thousands, breeding and displaying them for all to see (and interact with!) at his private G.W. Zoo in Wynnewood, Oklahoma.