“Tuesday,” he mumbled through fur. “Definitely Tuesday.”
“You again,” Ace said.
The giraffe nodded slowly, then spat out a crumpled napkin with a single word written in ketchup: “Okomfo.” ace ventura in africa
He wasn’t. He was here for Tumaini —a rare, talking gray parrot last seen trading insults with a poacher outside Arusha. But the case had taken a turn. A sacred Maasai chief’s staff had vanished the same night. The parrot had been spotted riding a wildebeest. And someone had glued a fake horn onto a very confused donkey. “Tuesday,” he mumbled through fur