Hi there, tasty face.

There we were, at the zoo, watching the lions watching us.


They paced back and forth behind the wire, eyeing off chubby, stumbling children, while marveling at the wondrous inverse logic of survival of the fittest.


We’re walking behind a Family Unit; mum, dad and two point four children (packed into just two, for convenience).


Poignant insights bubble from their mouths, including deep meditations on the variety of chips they’ve brought with them,


“These ones are better, they’ve got the flavoring kind of on them but in them too. I like that…”


The lions are thinking more or less the same thing. They continue pacing, performing complicated mental arithmetic.


The boy shouts at the lions, although his words are hard to make out because he seems to be speaking in text.


The lions eye him off. The kid has a wide, meaty face. He’s about nine. Like his Dad he’s wearing a slick of hair gel which makes his head look like a freshly upturned tin of jelly-meat, with gravity working its way down to the chest.


“I just saw an elephant” he says.


“There aren’t elephants at this zoo” says dad.


“I did! I saw the trunk. It’s got a big long trunk. Look!”


The boy points at an ostrich.


“See! Trunk!”


The lions transcend to another level of meditation.


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