Part Two

“You are, without a doubt, the biggest idiot that has ever trod the face of the earth!”

Peter was pacing frantically back and forth on the hot asphalt. How the hell could it be so hot when it was only 9:00am?

“Not only did you run away and join the Circus--the bloody Circus!--which may have seemed like a brilliant idea after several shots of Jaegermeister but was not, in fact, the wisest of career choices; but now, not even one week into this inexplicable venture, you have lost two hippopotami! How in the bloody hell do you lose two animals that weigh more than your truck?!”

He was sweating profusely now, but was clearly on a roll and not to be interrupted.

“Alright, okay, in all fairness they’re not exactly lost. They’re standing right over there having a mid-morning snack. But that doesn’t change the fact that they are out here, in the open, and not, in fact, inside the trailer where they bloody well should be! Ouch! Damnit!”

He extracted his fingernails from his palms and examined the damage.

“And now, to add the crowning jewel to this clusterfuck of a morning, here you are."

"In the parking lot of the Catholic High School.

"Talking to yourself.”

He yanked off his overtly-new baseball cap and chucked it to the pavement in disgust.

The hippos regarded him drolly. Clearly it was everyday fare to see their escort flailing about in a parking lot, shouting to no one in particular.

“I am so fucked.”

He sat down on the median and regarded the iron giants before him. The hippos were nonplussed.

Heaving a sigh, he extracted his cell phone from his pocket and attempted to formulate just precisely how he would explain this predicament to his new boss. His reverie of self-pity was interrupted by the sound of a revving engine as a red compact car blew through a nearby intersection.

“I hear ya,” he mumbled to the unseen driver and returned to formulating his explanation.

Thwack! Tsssss… thubba-thubba-thubba-CRACK!

“What the…?”

The red car had rolled onto the lawn of the High School and come to rest, quite forcefully, against the trunk of an ancient oak tree.

And then he was running, hippos forgotten, irate boss a distant memory, toward the small, blonde figure slumped over the steering wheel…

[to be continued]