The tragedy surrounding a little anteater
Once an anteater lived, his name was Bernd. Well, that’s not very exciting, but the story is not over yet, so stay tuned.
This anteater, who was said to be Bernd – yes, I know, as I have already mentioned – was very, very bad, not to say extremely bad or even abysmally bad, and I’m not exaggerating a bit. Not that Bernd was ill, no, he was very healthy in and of himself. His problem was different. Now, one wonders, what can such a stupid anteater already have for great problems? Well, Bernd lived at the North Pole. If you do not want to call that a problem, then you have to call it at least a “bad situation”.
Bernd guessed that someone in the disco had mixed drugs into his drink while he was short for small anteaters. This unknown someone seemed to be an outrageously perverse creature and shipped the poor, fully riveted anteater into the Arctic. If I catch this pig, I can not guarantee anything. But now continue with Bernd.
Whether he was at the North Pole, he did not know exactly what anteaters understood by geography, he could have been as well in Siberia, Greenland, Alaska or the South Pole, but rather not in the Maldives.
The biggest dilemma was not that Bernd was in the eternal ice, only that it was so cold there, that was really bad. Because anteaters do not have such a thick coat, they are not used to these temperatures and freeze quickly. Besides, there were almost no ants there, when they were frozen and Bernd did not like that much. If an anteater does not have ants, it can sometimes get pretty uncomfortable, you do not believe that.
Bernd waited there for rescue, but apparently rarely visited the North Pole. He built himself a huge helipad, which was marked with many colorful lights. Unfortunately, many animals believed that this was a casino and so they ran Bernd almost the igloo that he had built himself meanwhile. But he recognized the favor of the second and opened an illegal gambling Eldorado in the middle of the ice desert. Most of his guests were polar bears, so he also hosted the games for them. For example, blackjack. Here all participating polar bears had to start on command and catch 21 seals as fast as possible. The first to do so got five frozen ants, the second three and the third one. Bernd always wondered a lot about this game that none of the bears ever returned with the required number of seals, there were so many here. With a coat dyed red, they usually stood in front of him, regretting that they had not seen any seals, because they had to go to … hmmmmm … er … barber. Yes, exactly, they were at the hairdresser in the meantime. Just after the starting shot, they noticed that they had to cut the tips again, otherwise their hair would break off. And then they dyed the coat the same, because it was on offer. Just after the starting shot, they noticed that they had to cut the tips again, otherwise their hair would break off. And then they dyed the coat the same, because it was on offer. Just after the starting shot, they noticed that they had to cut the tips again, otherwise their hair would break off. And then they dyed the coat the same, because it was on offer.
Bernd seemed to make that reasoning very plausible, so he did not ask.
One day, unfortunately, as it had to come, the international anti-gambling commission vacationed in a hotel, very close to Bern’s Casino. This is called the company excursion. Why does not go where, where it is warm that hardly anyone can explain. Anyway, nobody warned Bernd that these Heinis were around, of course he had no idea. During a walk, the guys from the AGC discovered that it was cooler – the “frozen ant casino”, as Bernd had called it. Of course, the owner – that is, the poor anteater who had been bad luck all his life – was immediately challenged. That’s not how it works, they reprimanded the anteater and showed him how to properly mix the cards. Okay, but he had never learned no reason to be rude ladies and gentlemen! Then they played a round of bingo, they were here only on company outing, so not in the service. They did not care if it was a legal or an illegal casino. One of them, he was Italian, explained to the others in the best Senegalese that “il” was just the male article in Italian. Illegal casino – actually you would have to write it “il legal casino” – would be called “the legal casino”. Grammatically wrong, but he did not invent it, the Lord said. Subsequently, the employees of the AGC were still fully in the pot and wanted to leave. They had already said goodbye, so it occurred to Bernd. Now he realized how he could disappear here forever. He just had to ask the guys from the AGC they would not say no, he had always been friendly to them. And so he ran after them and asked if they could call his girlfriend at home and tell her where Bernd was. They should also tell her friend to call him a taxi.