Norbert goes to the beach.

Norbert

- looks up trucks in the phone book, the biggest trucks, trucks so big no one can believe it. Waits ten minutes, thinking about cans. Not big cans, small ones, itty bitty. Turns back to the phone book to look up trucks again. This goes on for quite some time. Meanwhile, Willy -

- deftly removes the following from an egg-colored wallet and sets each item on the lowered platform: a hamburger, a duckburger, three short blown fuses, a book about gnats, a slightly-too-old-to-eat piece of asparagus in a ziplock bag, eleven bits of pencil lead, a glass onion, and two liters of fresh table salt. Nearby, Susanna -

- cups hands for a drink of spring water. Have you seen the flamingos? Have you seen them? Let me know when you have seen the flamingos. I want to know as soon as you have seen them. Bryant -

- laughs a hearty, knowing laugh. All is made of rooster eggs. This is certain. Rondine -

- staples together three sheets of paper, in a most uninteresting fashion, completely boring everyone in sight. In fact, no one is in the least fascinated by this occurance. It is barely even worth mentioning. Yes, I'm quite sure I never should have mentioned it. Instead, I should have told you about Salamander Ludover Stewie, a vacant and hollow man, who -

- with the skilled fingertips of a master programmer, writes code which will enable men and beasts to rise in dancing ecstatic patterns, turn violently around, switch places somewhat awkwardly, and start the whole process again. This comes as some surprise to Reginald, who -

- is not afraid of the polar bear. The rustic ornery guide, with obtuse scrutinous eyebrows -

- is inclined to ask, “What kind of steam boat is that exactly, with parasails, quaint blue shudders, and a shiny green exoskeleton?” Chiming in quite suddenly, Belinda Borogroves -

- raises money to finance an egg salad sandwich the likes of which this zoo has never ever seen before. Shakes hands with babies. Kisses old men. Tangos with semi-famous child actors. Lets loose a wild guttural crocodile peep. A bespectacled blue man in earshot knows something must be quickly to save the day done, so he -

- writes this letter to Congress: Dear Congress, I have been to the zoo. It is made of fine china and eggs, respectively. I do not wish to disturb your slumber, but it is imperative not to clumsily move about while at the zoo. Please let your daughters and sons know about this, that they may tell their daughters and sons, and mine as well. Signed, your favorite doctor of topology. P.S. You are all doing a very nice job with the hedges this year. The response to the letter was swift and plaid. Congresswoman Mary Nobs -

- controls a fleet of invisible llamas. The first llama, accustomed as she is to east Texas gin and tonics, -
- builds a sandcastle for the naked mole rats, putting at the top of each guard tower a small moist black olive. When Wendy Westinghouse comes by, she -

- makes a gritty cup of sewer coffee and serves it in tiny black and white ceramic mugs to the penguins, who then present a short film about the former rainbow color indigo. I've seen the film. It's not very good. Why, just the other day, I was talking to Lenny Q, who -

- walks into a bar and says, a rabbi walks into a bar and says, a priest walks into a bar and says, a Tibetan monk walks into a bar and says, Buddha says, Gandhi says, Wagner says, Dionysus says, Judas says Jesus -

- paints a marvelous epic transcendental apology to the Grand Poop of the zoo, lush and rich and chocolate and darling. It would make a grown birdman weep. The Grand Poop, between agonizing sobs, -

- cooks up a scheme to free all the imprisoned animals one by one, starting, naturally, with the majestic great apes. The plan involves duct tape, time travel, ice cream sandwiches, a tuning fork (A 441) and a trained weasel named Rex. Everything seems to be going just as planned, when suddenly, Rex -

- gets hit square in the crotch by a poison dart. How mysterious! With divine prejudice, Arnold -

- converses with the zedonk, who has this to say, “I have come to the mountain of porridge, I have come from the valley of rye. I am seeking the river of whorage, in this river, I will lie.” “This is so,” says the Queen of Sinks, who -

- coughs into a flaming chalice with dice painted on the sides, winks, blinks, and does 17 push-ups before collapsing. Slightly befuddled, Dr. Ribosome -

- notices a tiny blue spider under the bench, which has this to say: “I am a tiny blue spider under the bench. I have seen many things taking place on this desolate prime afternoon for seeing things taking place. Please do not be afraid. I want to tell you what I did see. The woman over there, Glinda Pageantry, she -

- takes a long, hard, aggressive, and not unerotic sip of purple lemonade before standing up and then sitting down and then doing neither. Watching under cover of a tall fern is Dustin Crowe, who -

- administers aid to a small baby chipmunk that has fallen from a cloud. In due time, Sylvester Oregon -

- is not wearing pants. Distraught, Bonny O'Toole -

- dances for seven dollars by the big cats. This enticing dance lasts well over five hours, and during this time, the lion and two lionesses change position five times. They begin with the first lioness on the left, the second lioness in the middle, and the lion all the way on the right, taking a nap. It doesn't take long for the lionesses to switch positions, putting the second lioness on the left and the first lioness in the middle. When the lion gets to waking, he groggily meanders all the way to the far left, and the second lioness takes his former spot on the right. Again, the lionesses switch positions and the lion stays put. Later, he moves one spot to the right, appearing in the middle for the first time, and the first lioness takes his former place on the left with the second lioness moving all the way to the right. For the final positions, the lion remains in the middle and again the lionesses switch positions, the second one winding up on the far left and the first one winding up on the far right. No one notices this unfolding, except for Dr. Dusty Cloverteen, with her wrought-iron clipboard, hot pink fingernails, and salmon breath, who -

- goes to sleep for 29 years, wakes briefly for a scratch and a glass of water, and continues sleeping until the present time. “Remarkable,” remarks the remarkably Andy, chewing on his leather clasps, which are too tight. “I'll have to mention this to Rubby the Dangerclown, who, at this very moment -

- putts about the house watering the plants, thinking about going to the zoo, but not being able to decide if it's a good idea to leave the plants by themselves. In the next room over, Japheth -

- complains to Professor Albright about a modest anthill which seems to have been established between the cracks in the sidewalk within the past 24 hours. The Professor -

- responds to the events at hand by squawking, howling, muttering, jabbering, jibbering, and dilly-dallying. At first, this seems to all present to be a quite appropriate reaction to the disturbing events which have just taken place, but after about 9 minutes of hullabaloo, everyone becomes annoyed and starts wiggling their fingers anxiously inside their pockets. A man of extreme action, Gerald -

- invents a three-tiered flying saucer made of corrugated cardboard, highly efficient and somewhat innovative, and uses it to travel seven feet to the left, while Latoya -

- wonders aloud, in earshot of the dromedaries, why one hump sags to the right (measured from the unfortunate camel's unfortunate point of view). Theodora, the expert on matters such as these -

- prances in octagonal zig-zags for thirty five minutes, approximately, as Reverend Wind watches, bemused, before declaring, “The Good Lord -

- composes a nine-act opera about Michael Jackson in one long, desolate afternoon, before finishing and wondering, “Where have all the birds gotten off to?” Of course, the birds are still around, but can no longer be seen. Formica Olaf recognizes this. The question he cannot yet answer is this one: What kind thing would? What kind thing would? What kind thing would? Maybe Kristine can answer this. She -

- pushes start before time count enters zero. The general, with sulphuric acid squirt guns protruding from his oily brow, -

- recites erotic Etruscan poetry to three puffins, loudly, and presses face to the glass, tip-tapping fingers and shuffling feet, wiggling and wobbling, lolling and flailing, until a security guard with 86 teeth and a mohawk -

- snaps back at an angry mother snapping turtle, but to no effect. The turtle cavorts and produces from her gnarled shell a longsword, which she proceeds to use in slicing. The enraged turtle, like a percolating tire-iron, -

- returns from the zoo and, on an ancient waterbed decked out with mallard sheets and a ribbed flaccid bodypillow, takes a long nap and has a dream in which the following events take place: A toaster oven on the fritz pontificates. A hairy schoolgirl drives a car.
The number 43 eats a cucumber, but can't finish it. An Olympic swimmer watches re-runs of Leave it to Beaver. A 1980s robot pontificates. A toaster oven on the fritz drives a car. A hairy schoolgirl eats a cucumber, but can't finish it. The number 43 watches re-runs of Leave it to Beaver. An Olympic swimmer pontificates. A 1980s robot drives a car. A toaster oven on the fritz eats a cucumber, but can't finish it. A hairy schoolgirl watches re-runs of Leave it to Beaver. The number 43 pontificates. An Olympic swimmer drives a car. A 1980s robot eats a cucumber, but can't finish it. A toaster oven on the fritz watches re-runs of Leave it to Beaver. A hairy schoolgirl pontificates. The number 43 drives a car. An Olympic swimmer eats a cucumber, but can't finish it. A 1980s robot watches re-runs of Leave it to Beaver. A toaster oven on the fritz -

- listens to mediocre opera recordings slowed down on a broken iPod while smiling at strangers and throwing coins in arbitrary directions. After $7.29 have been ejected from heavy pockets, a nuclear physicist, in broad daylight, -

- only likes ketchup from the little plastic squirt packages. This presents a complicated problem when a sleepy Burger King employee -

- hunts penguins with a fourteen-year-old penguin gun, sneering, and saying things like, “Gar, ya'ugly penguins, yarg and gr and urgl!” A really big and tough penguin named Roger -

- goes to the beach.