Silly writing endevors with jessie.
it was cold. jud tried to focus on the clouds of breath gathering in spurts around his tusks. he couldn’t get his eyes to work together. “focus” he said, in a voice that sounded like he was talking through a dirty sock. the ivory danced with the rolling vapor, doubling, tripling, returning. he let out another breath. it turned around to laugh at him before sliding to the other side of the room.
jud tried to remember where he was.
“this should do the trick,” said the zookeeper with a tight-lipped smile. “stupid elephants.”
the zoo keepers had wanted to get rid of the elephants for as long as anyone could remember. the elephants were so much work. the sheer size of their shit was enough to merit an execution. the zoo was going broke from the weight of twelve elephants. and they never came out to see the crowds, the whole lot of them staying in their rooms all day, reading, remembering things, planning. the zoo keepers didn’t know what the elephants were fixing to do, but they knew it was something. and they knew it would be big.
the zoo keepers had tried everything. they stopped giving them food (oh, the money they had saved in those few days!). the elephants simply ate through the walls. they didn’t plan on going anywhere – they were content to read and remember and plan, and have zoo keepers clean up their shit and not go outside to ever see the people and give them what they paid for. it’s just that they got hungry. so they ate through the monkey’s walls as well. and the penguin’s. and the snakes. twelve full elephants and a zoo with no walls.
the zoo keepers tried not cleaning up the elephant’s giant shit anymore. that was the only time that the elephants ever went outside. when they picked up their shit and threw it at the people.
there had been one hundred attempts to execute the elephants. all of them ended with the elephants back in their rooms, reading, remembering, planning, holding one hundred grudges.
it was the newest zookeeper, the youngest, the smallest, that had come up with the idea. he was just out of college. “beer makes people stupid,” he said. “it makes them forget.” maybe, just maybe, it would have the same effect on elephants.
paco didn’t care anymore. “toss me another toña, fool!” he yelled to whoever might hear him. it flew into his left cheek just when he’d swung his head to the right. he fished for it, snapped it open, lifted it to his mouth and slurped the spray while mopping up the falling droplets with his trunk. “e hud ‘nuff… ew hea meh?” he said, swaying, while trying to drain the rest of the can. finally, he crushed it with his limp, flapping trunk and shoved the entire thing down his throat with a burp.
the room looked like it had been ransacked by a dozen beer-crazed elephants.
the smallest zookeeper was gathering up his courage to peek through the window of the freezer. it was where they kept the fish. what the whales ate. the freezer was full to the brim of fish; the whales had been executed years ago. today, it was also full of elephants.
something was leaning on fran. she started. her stomach turned over once. twice. then it just kept on rolling. she moaned and lifted one flat, stub-toed foot to her head. with the other she laid a slap on the stiff weight of flesh next to her.
“what happened?” she said to the lump.
the lump rolled over and puked in her lap before falling limp. it felt warm. fran heaved. fran fought to get up onto her four cold legs, and screamed.
eleven frozen elephants, 678 empty beer cans and 48 bottles of tequila were scattered in the freezer.
“how did we get in here?” fran asked the incoherent room.
outside, the smallest zookeeper held a hand-written sign to the frosted window: “AND YOU SAY ELEPHANTS NEVER FORGET!”
later, a video was uncovered by someone in the monkey house. they laughed, screeching monkey laughs, at the stupid elephants.
in the video, the elephants were dancing. dancing with the zoo keepers. they had forgotten all one hundred grudges. “i love you man!” jud was screaming to the oldest zookeeper.
when most of the beer was gone, the zoo keepers suggested that they all head to a new bar, over by the penguin house, where the beers were kept colder than the elephants could ever imagine. the elephants thought it was a fine idea. “vamos old friends,” said paco.
the monkeys laughed. but they were next. what they didn’t know, was that the zoo keepers had grown tired of their laughing.