Hey, Rhino. Whatcha doing?

“Who’s that? I can’t see you.”

Should I come closer?

“I still wouldn’t be able to see you. Terrible eyesight.”

Have you thought about LASIK?

“I tried that.”

It didn’t work?

“When I went in for my consultation, I destroyed the entire office.”

You’re too big to fit in a waiting room.

“Yeah, you know: megafauna. No big deal on the eyes, though. I can smell up a storm.”

Of course you can. Look at that nose.

“That’s my horn, jackass.”

Right, sure. Although, I think the proper term for it is “tusk.”

“I’m going to ignore you, even though I have excellent hearing.”

It’s like you just read your own Wikipedia article.

“Nah. Not so big on the reading. Tiny brain. Enormous skull, but a tiny brain. It’s suspended in there like a chandelier in a ballroom.”

That seems odd.

“Not if you think about it. Evolution pares away anything unneeded; if you weigh a ton with inch-thick armor all over you and eat grass, you don’t need to be that smart.”

Just how dumb are rhinos?

“Almost unanimously for Trump.”


“Man’s got a lot of horn.”

Uh-huh. Let’s get back to you: what’s your horn made of?



“Yeah. Chinese are right. Just compressed medicine.”

What does it cure?

“Depends on how much you want to spend.”

You’re fooling with me, Rhino.

“I am. I was using irony to illustrate what complete fucking monsters your entire species is.”

We’re not the best.

“No. Who’s the lady taking pictures?”

Lillian Monster.

“Bobby’s sister!? Shit, no way! Lemme get Soup.”

You know Soup?


“Heeeeey, man.”

We’re done.