why you can’t trust penguins

penguins don’t dance salsa
and pandas don’t drink beer
so when they both walked in the club
we wondered “why come here?”

I was seated at the bar
and heard this lady shout
“you’d better watch that flipper, pal!”
before the fight broke out

the bouncers rushed in quickly
to take the two away
when suddenly a booming voice
was heard above the fray

the speaker was a doctor
a PhD of sorts
an expert in zoology
who’d also studied torts

“wait,” he said, “don’t be alarmed”
“the penguin’s not at fault”
“he’s aiding an experiment”
“not making an assault”

this genius then explained
about the panda’s plight
despite our sex ed lectures
he couldn’t get it right

it seems the female panda
does not evoke desire
and they thought something prettier
might light the panda’s fire

“he’s facing full extinction”
“he’s needlessly forlorn”
“what we hoped to find tonight”
“was soft-core panda porn”

the crowd seemed sympathetic
when all had been made clear
but I still had a question,
“why bring the penguin here?”

“that’s simple,” claimed the doctor
“he’s here to teach the bear”
“for penguins are true players”
“they’re suave and debonair”

“really?” I insisted
“you must be kidding me”
“I’m looking at a fat bald bird”
“how charming can he be?”

“listen,” grinned the penguin
“you’re free to speak your mind”
“but I’d prefer a private chat”
“if you would be so kind”

he ushered me aside
then flashed a wad of bills
“this is how we roll, my friend”
“we pay for all our thrills”

I just started laughing
“you must be nuts”, I said
“no girl here takes that offer”
“they’d rather be caught dead”

“true,” he sighed, “they can’t be bought”
“but they have sympathy”
“so I pay panda and the doc”
“to run this scam for me.”


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