BECK N ME: Zoo conspiracy

    Humphrey, the one-hump camel, came up the gravel path leading to the barn. 
    They saw him coming, noticing that Harriet, the pesky ostrich, followed close behind.  Such a rare visit from the Ft. Chiswell Animal Park raised curiosity among the barn denizens.  Tongues wagged faster than a cat’s tail in a room full of rocking chairs.
    Upon their arrival, Humphrey said, “We bring a warning.  An evil conspiracy is the making.  Jeff Archer, the head honcho at the Ft. Chiswell zoo, wants to be another P. T. Barnum.”
    “Takes two to conspire,” said Beck, my ole Missouri mule.  “Who else is involved?”
    “Greg Sayers for one,” blurted out Harriet.  “He wants publicity for the new car wash he’s planning.”
    “Hadn’t heard about a car wash,” Ratchet Arnold said. 
    “That’s just it,” Humphrey said.  “People aren’t driving enough to dirty their cars.  Greg is thinking of making it an animal wash.”
    “Yes,” the camel said.  “Jeff Archer wants to run Beck though the wash.  He’ll paint her white with black stripes.  Then, he’ll put her on display as a talking zebra.  During winter months, he can rent her out as a football referee.”
    “Beck would be stealing the limelight from us,” Harriet said. 
    Old Blue Rosenbloom said, “Paul Brewster tried to land a job at the zoo.  He wanted to be a talking ape but Jeff told him he walked too much like a Marine.  He needed to move like a deck ape.”
“I saw Coy McRoberts, the Ivanhoe squire, dressed in a monkey suit twice last week,” said Price Crigger.  “He must be practicing for the role.”
    “People would rather watch me do my new dance,” Harriet said.
    Buster Blossom said, “Maybelle, my wife, says the Ft. Chiswell zoo is the best place she knows for baby-sitting busy grandchildren.”
    “She’s a big woman,” mumbled No Fenders McGee.
A retired lawman and journalist, and published novelist, Jack Crosswell lives in Cripple Creek.