“Here we are, at Brooklyn Zoo.
See that? It’s a kangaroo.
What the heck is that strange smell?
It’s this New York mob from Hell:
In they rush’d with slings and knives
Stabbing, shooting all our lives.
Ow! they struck me in the arm—
Now I’ll die on Brooklyn Farm.
Look: the crowd has gone outrageous:
Freeing creatures from their cages.”
“Yes, and while this horde is unleashing that flock of camels, all the herders are giving the beasts contradictory commands: With one hand, they’re making the gesture that means ‘Lie down,’ while, with the other hand, they’re making the gesture that means ‘Stand up’; therefore, the poor animals remain partially reclining while bobbing and shifting about confusedly. And the people keep laughing.”
“Now they’ve broken into the baboon cage, and they’re riling up the monkeys! How can humankind be so cruel?”
“It’s because they are psychopaths addicted to pharmaceuticals. In addition, a great many of them are unwed parents. And they all send mail bombs.”
“Plus they smell bad, and their hair is dyed purple.”
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