Do do do do…
That terrible tune rang in my ears. I wiped my brow.
“Um, uh, what is, uh, potatoes?” I nervously asked.
“Oh, I’m sorry, thats not correct. Its ‘what is tomatoes’”
“GODDAMNIT!! Please!! Just one more chance!! Please!!” I pleaded, crying.
“Fine. But this is the last time. A sharp, metal object, used to cut up raw meat. Or live human flesh.” I winced, knowing that his last sentence may very well become my fate.
“Um, what is…what is a knife?”
“Oh, no. The correct answer is ‘what is a BUTCHER knife.’” His mock sympathy just made this whole thing ten times worse.
“I was close!! Please!! Spare me!!”
“No.” He reached for the lever that was only afew inches away, and pulled it. I screamed as I fell into the pit of crocodiles.
“We’ll be right back after a word from our sponsers!!”
The zoo flashed on the TV screen of millions of watchers.

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