Picture it: It’s a balmy day at the Heidelburg Zoo in Germany, as Klaus the groundskeeper went about his daily business. First things first, he must hydrate the wandering jews. They had been looking lifeless in the hot April heat, and Klaus couldn’t bear the thought of having to rip them out of the ground due to carelessness. So it was with the rusty watering can his Grandfather gave him — the same can that used to water the flowers of Otto Grotewohl in Braunschweig — that he tended to his duties, carefully drizzling the leaves with the tenderest of droplets while his own sweat glistened down the back of his neck.

Then, from a distance, he heard it. A whistling. Tuneless, but jarring. For him? He turned his face slightly to the right, and saw it: There, standing by gibbon sanctuary, stood Bernd Kowalsy, head zookeeper and a man whose mere presence rocked every fiber in Klaus’ being. The two had barely ever spoken, much less whistled at each other from a distance. But could this be happening? Klaus looked around; he was the only person in sight. He turned back to the jew garden and contemplated his next move.

Meanwhile, Bernd was in a terrible mood. One of the gibbons must’ve gotten into the dried cherry bin, causing it to defecate all over the entire sanctuary. It was going to take Klaus hours to get it back to Heidelburg’s notoriously rigid standards. And now, to top it off, that retarded groundskeeper — Kris? No, Klaus, Klaus — seemed to be whistling some cacophonous melody in his direction. “What is it with that man?” Bernd wondered. “He’d almost be handsome if he showered every now and again. He smells like gorilla’s perineum.” At this, Bernd gave a little laugh, and glanced back, only to catch eyes with Klaus, now frozen in fear. Both wished to look away, but neither could break gaze. As the sun baked down on their tan, sinewy arms, their brows furrowed with magnetism and confusion, Klaus inhaled the thick air and was about to say his first complete sentence in months when they both heard it again. The whistling. That damned whistling.

And that’s when they saw it:

Thus completing my first exercise in German Zoology Fanfic. Thanks for listening.