Another piece spotlighting Cirsova Issue #1!
My magazine quest has gotten expensive, so I’m driving an 18-wheeler to make some money. I speak into my voice recorder. “Trucker’s log. Date: 6-6, midnight. Weather conditions: clear, but no moonlight. Cargo: timber products. Many rigs headed same direction.”
The chimpanzee in the passenger’s seat raises one hand towards me, repeatedly flashing three letters in sign language. He must have seen the billboard. I don’t understand sign, but I’ve learned those three letters: K-F-C.
“We had Kentucky Fried Chicken for lunch, Bobo. Let’s have something else for dinner.”
Bobo jumps up and down in his seat, shrieking out a primordial jungle call.
“Put your seat belt back on, Bobo!”
A pair of gorilla arms reach forward from the sleeping area, signing furiously.
“I don’t understand sign, Herman. I didn’t understand it yesterday, I didn’t understand it ten minutes ago, and…
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