Three Perfect Zoo-goers


Our fable begins on the idyllic pastures of the grounds of an upscale city zoo on a sunny day. Three beautiful zoo visitors, all of them heirs to grand title and great fortune, were trying to determine which of the three was the most perfect.

Jezebel, the dark-haired granddaughter of a legendary Jewish pirate, worked as a swimsuit model. Anita, the princess of Cairns in title only, was a professional critic with a knife-sharp nose and hair the color of pasta al dente. Mauve, the freelance masseuse, wore the gown her great-grandmother had worn at her wedding to the duke of Senegal many years ago. It glittered gold in the light, and Anita’s hair was blinding too, and Jezebel was wearing platinum jewelry, so they were all wearing sunglasses to protect their pretty eyes.

“Clearly I can’t be the perfect one,” Jezebel insisted, tossing her ebony curls over her shoulder like ocean waves. She indicated the ice-blended drink she was sipping. “I mean, I did get nonfat, and I asked for no whip, but my coffee doesn’t have that super-protein fennel and quinoa shot in it today. I just can’t drink the stuff without gagging.” She gazed at Anita with admiration. “But you’re a protein connoisseur,” Jezebel said modestly.

Anita gently shoved her friend, making her jewelry flash and blind a passing popcorn vendor. “Listen. I might be really healthy, but you should see my makeup closet. I have a set of knockoff eyeshadow from the drugstore, and it’s actually touching my Garnier lipstick! I mean it’s right up against it, contaminating my wardrobe with cheapness for infinity! I just can’t bring myself to throw it away… I bought it on sale.”

“That is pretty bad,” Jezebel remarked, taking a sip of her nonfat coffee.

“Promise you won’t tell anyone,” Anita moaned.


Jezebel looked over at Mauve to evaluate her level of perfection.

Mauve flicked a ladybug off her blown-glass slipper. “Come on, guys,” she said, “neither of you have any imperfections at all compared to me. I’ve been single for like three and a quarter days now. I’m starting to hear voices. I see monsters under my bed. The monsters say Peter wouldn’t have cheated on me if I’d gone on that juicing detox.” She glared at Jezebel. “You did that detox for two weeks and lost 7 inches! Surely you must be the perfect one.”

Anita cleared her throat emphatically.

Jezebel smiled at her blonde friend. “I disagree, Mauve. I think Anita is clearly the best make-up artist of all of us, and much better at picking up guys than you are.”

“Hey! I have more money than the two of you and both your boyfriends put together!” Mauve exclaimed. “If anyone is the perfect one, it should be me.”

“All right,” sighed Anita, “Mauve is the queen of perfection.”

Mauve blushed. “Oh, surely you can’t be serious,” she giggled. “You’re much prettier than I am.”

“Well, you’re an inch taller than she is!” Jezebel cut in.

“Well, you’re a year younger than I am!” Anita pointed out to the pirate’s granddaughter.

“Well, Mauve doesn’t know the difference between vanilla sugar and warm vanilla sugar!”

“Wait – that’s not a compliment – is it?”

All three ladies blinked at each other, staring, each searching the other’s faces for truth and meaning to end this mystery of who was most perfect. They could only look at each other straight on for a few moments before the concentrated celestial light became too powerful and they all had to turn their heads away from Jezebel’s jewelry, Anita’s hair, and Mauve’s dress. It just so happened they all turned their heads to the northeast, where a young female gorilla was seated on a park bench.


The gorilla’s black, matted hair caught no sunlight, rendering her pleasantly painless to look at. Furthermore, she was shoving fruit into her mouth, smearing it all over her face like a pulpy lipstick. A male gorilla approached and reached for a peach at the same time as she. She gazed into his eyes for a moment, then snatched the peach and shoved it down her throat, cackling as she chewed, masticated, swallowed, spat out the stone.

The three princesses of perfection knelt in the grass. Jezebel took a long, loud sip of coffee. Mauve farted. Anita said aloud, “We have found her. The most perfect of all women – the one who didn’t know the meaning of the word.”

“I’ve gotta go get some peaches to stuff in my mouth,” Mauve murmured, as she ran for the gorilla enclosure.


Image credits in order of appearance:

Pam Brophy [CC BY-SA 2.0 (, via Wikimedia Commons

“Vanessatv” by Vanessatevesti – Own work. Licensed under Public Domain via Wikimedia Commons –

“Cross river gorilla” by arenddehaas at English Wikipedia. Licensed under CC BY-SA 3.0 via Wikimedia Commons –

By Abdullah Muashi from Jeddah, KSA [CC BY 2.0 (, via Wikimedia Commons


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