Pachyderm Enlightenment at the Zoo

April 12th, 2006 by OZ

I had to chase down my paycheck this week by driving back out to NY, to a little town called Endicott which essentially consists of a Wendy's, a Best Western, and a small zoo. Guess which one I'm staying at.

Yesterday I left my room at the Best Western (wasn't it obvious?) to find that I had a flat tire. I took the car to A Nearby Tire Shop -- that's the actual name of the nearby tire shop -- and was told I'd need a new tire and it would be a little while before the car was ready. Since I was already going to miss my morning meetings, I decided to take the day and explore. Having been in the Wendy's, the Best Western, and now the tire shop, I went to the one place I hadn't yet visited: the small zoo.

At the zoo, I encountered an elephant. Much to my surprise (though not as great a surprise as finding that damn flat) I found that the elephant could talk. Since neither of us had nothing else to do, I decided to interview the pachyderm. Here's the complete transcript of that interview.

me: Holy crap, you can talk! So, uh, what's your name?

Elephant: Elle Fant.

me: Are you serious? You're name is elephant?

EF: No, it's Elle Fant. All elephants are named Elle Fant, but there are very slight distinctions in the pronunciation of each elephant's name that separate it from the others. Our trunks help us make those subtle sounds.

me: I just hear "elephant."

EF: That's because you have those tiny flesh-cups you call ears on the side of your head.

me: What?

EF (stomping): I said, "That's because --"

me: Haha! I heard you.

EF: Smart ass.

me: I get that a lot. So... what is there to do around here?

EF: Not too much. I just sit here, swaying slightly and occasionally looking at visitors. At least once a day a couple will come in here and the female will pass gas and blame it on me. Then she'll act disgusted and tell her mate that they should leave. I just sit here flapping my innocent ears, fanning the stench away.

me: How sneaky!

EF: Indeed. It's usually pretty bad and sometimes it even kills my appetite. A little known fact is that elephant gas isn't actually too bad. It's like the smell of muddy rain water with raspberries. What you usually experience in an elephant pen was the dishonesty of at least one "lady".

me: I had no idea! Speaking of appetites, is it true that elephants consider the Planter's peanut to be the messiah?

EF (stomping): Balderdash! Hogwash! Urban legend! Mr. Peanut is famous among our kind, but that is only because there is a large bounty on his head.

me: Why? What did he do?

EF: He's a giant freakin' peanut shell! Some say he's as tall as 3'8"! Imagine the peanuts in each half. Oh, the feast one would have when hollowing out his skull! It is the stuff of legends. The stuff of dreams. The stuff of... er, legends. I already said that, didn't I?

me: Yeah. So Mr. Planter is actually prey for you? No wonder he hasn't been seen around lately. He's probably in hiding.

EF: There are whispers that he's in the Nut and Legume Protection Program. They say he's been surgically altered to look like a giant almond or pistachio. There was a rumor circulating last year that a circus elephant saw a giant macadamia nut wearing a top hat and monocle in Oklahoma last year, but it hasn't been confirmed.

me: Wow, this is pretty serious. I thought elephants were such gentle creatures.

EF: Balderdash! Hogwash! Urban legend! I bet you also think we're afraid of mice! We are proud warriors, back to the times when Hannibal bumped his head and thought we'd make good war horses. It turns out that Hannibal was right, despite his concussion. But now we're more cunning, more patient. We bide our time, watching, remembering, analyzing, planning. When the time is right, we shall rise up against our human oppressors and claim a world that is rightfully ours! The weak shall tremble at our coming, and never again will any of us be blamed for misplaced flatulence!

me: I... see.

EF (shaking head): Oh, dear, I've said too much. Now I have to eat you.

me: Bye!

So I picked up my car and hit the road. I'm now hiding out in a small coffee shop in (undisclosed location). It's a shame that I can't tell you where it is because it's really good coffee. That's probably because the guy who runs this place is a giant coffee bean with a top hat and a monocle.

...

I may have just found a way to get back in the elephants' good graces.

You're playing with fire, buddy.