Frannie Goes to the Zoo

Here is a “children’s story” I wrote on a piece of yellow construction paper when I was 20 & waiting for my boyfriend-at-the-time to get ready. SPOILER ALERT: it is so good.

(It’s not.)

I think this needs a companion painting.

Frannie Goes to the Zoo

One Sunday morning, Frannie’s alarm clock woke her up extra early.

“Geez Louise, Mr. Jerome! It’s only 6:00am!” Frannie was quite perturbed. Sunday was the only day she didn’t have to work at the food preservation material factory!

“Why yes, Frannie, I know it is way early. But I think today you should go to the zoo!” Mr. Jerome was the BEST alarm clock EVER. Without him, Frannie would have virtually NO agenda.

“That’s a great suggestion, Mr. Jerome!” Frannie spent a good forty-five minutes loving and stroking Mr. Jerome before she hopped into the shower.

Frannie, still not fully recovered from the early awakening, could barely keep her eyes open long enough to grab the shampoo. She mistakenly picked up Fred the Sea Monkey’s bottle of Nair instead!

So there stood Frannie, belting out some Engelbert Humperdinck classics, while simultaneously lathering the Nair into a big greasy lump on her head. Mr. Jerome joined in the song fest from the bedroom.

While Frannie was busy rinsing the ‘shampoo’ from her hair, she kept her eyes closed, envisioning what that night would hold for her and her beloved alarm clock. Candle light, unbridled passion and tuna for sure!

Incidentally, she completely over looked the fact that clumps of her green hair were being sucked down the drain.

Finally, Frannie finished scrubbing her leathery flesh with Crisco, and she emerged from the shower.

“Ack!!” Her ear-piercing shriek bellowed throughout the house, and even lingered a bit in her neighbor’s underground sweatshop.

“All of my hair is missing! It must have been the raw egg and pecan soup I had for dinner last night.” Frannie collapsed into a soggy ball of self-pity.

“Never fear! I am a bear!” Fred, the Sea Monkey and owner of the Nair, proclaimed as he popped out of the bathroom drain.

“No, you’re not. You’re a sea monkey,” Frannie said, matter-of-factly.

“Today I’m a bear.”

“No….huh-uh. You’re still a sea monkey.”

“I could be a bear.”

“You COULD be. But you’re still a sea monkey.”

“Tomorrow I could be a cow.”

“No, you’ll still be a sea monkey.”

Frannie and Fred locked eyes for a few minutes, and then Fred retreated to his lair in the drain.

Frannie, now completely over her hair-loss fiasco, got dressed in her best cellophane corset and saran wrap skirt. Working in the food preservation material industry had its perks.

“Au revoir, Mr. Jerome!” Frannie waved her yellowed handkerchief out the window of her Pinto as she drove away.

“Have fun, my love. Tonight we will make babies,” Mr. Jerome whispered to himself, perched atop Frannie’s bedroom windowsill.

After driving through the most monstrous of mountains, stankiest of swamps, and passing 2514 Wal-Marts, Frannie parked her car at the zoo.

“Hello! I am here to see the zoo!” Frannie cheerfully announced to the zoo employee at the gate. The zoo employee promptly turned his back to Frannie, leaning into his walkie-talkie.

“We have a visitor. Prepare the animals. 10-4,” he said, quite hush-hushedly. Frannie then handed him a hunk of muenster and the gates immediately opened.

Breathing in the stale scent of beer and oysters, Frannie whirled around in clumsy circles, her arms extended and head back, taking in the dilapidated, run-down establishment.

Meanwhile, haggard zoo people hustled to inflate all the animals, in preparation for Frannie’s arrival. But much to their chagrin, only the food court piqued Frannie’s interest.

“Amaretto corn dogs! Bonus!!” Frannie skipped amidst the peanut shells and rubber bands to the corn dog stand.

“Hello there, sir. How can I help you?” inquired the teenage employee.

“I’m a ma’am, not a sir.”

“Yes, I know. You’re a man.”

“No, I’m a MA’AM.”

“Right. How can I help you?”

Frannie scoped out the menu which consisted of…..amaretto corn dogs.

“Can I have a minute to decide?”

“Surely.” The vendor resumed painting his eyelids with green nail polish.

After twelve minutes of careful, excruciating deliberation, Frannie placed her order.

“Would you like to move in with me?” the vendor asked, rather nonchalantly.

“Yes, that would be okay,” Frannie agreed as she took the corn dog from his hand.

Frannie raced home after that magical encounter and told Mr. Jerome the news. He pretended to be happy for her, but when she left the room, he slowly pulled his cord from the wall, ending his life.

Fred the Sea Monkey walked out of the bathroom, in full bovine regalia, to bid Frannie a fond farewell.

Frannie glued some leaves to her bare scalp and left.
MORAL: If you’re an alarm clock, in love with your owner, don’t tell them to go to the zoo. Have them re-grout the shower instead.