It was a week-long banter in the office. Grace was to take her niece and nephew to the zoo the coming Saturday. It began with Don’t slip in the poo at the zoo. After that, the entire week was spent by office staff on nonsensical zoological rhyming advice:
Don’t swear at the bear.
Don’t give a banana to the llama.
Don’t throw nuts at baboon butts.
Don’t be shocked at the elephant’s cock.
Don’t gawk at the bottom half of the giraffe.
What a relief it was for Grace when work finished on Friday and she (and everyone else) could say goodbye to the rhymes. There was the inevitable See you later alligator as she left.
The niece and nephew were beside themselves with excitement as their Aunt Grace paid for tickets at the zoo entrance. But thank goodness Grace had brought her bright red umbrella! It was raining and windy and quite horrible.
But not half as horrible as when she slipped in some poo and plunged headlong over the barrier down into the wolves’ enclosure. She was screaming and clutching her red umbrella. Within seconds it was impossible to tell what bits belonged to the umbrella and what bits once belonged to Grace.
The following week at the office, no one, for the life of them, could think of anything that rhymed with wolves.