Judy was just turning the corner into the financial district when she heard Nick cry out, “ Aw, no.”
“What’s up?” she asked, starting to slow down.
“Giraffe with the sign, on my right.” Nick pointed to an elderly looking giraffe standing on the sidewalk, maybe in his sixties, dressed in ragged looking, faded green fatigue pants and jacket. In his hoof he held up a sign that was about six feet on a side, filled with a dense screed in block printed letters, detailing what appeared to be a conspiracy between banker lemmings, intelligent reptiles on the moon, and “mind eaters”, whatever those were supposed to be.
“Central, this is Zoo Adam-12. Investigating protester in front of the Lemming Brothers Building, Financial District,” Judy reported into their cruiser’s radio. She clicked off and asked Nick, “Somebody you know?”
( Not everyone can be saved )