An Alligator On The Loose [FICTOID]

The alligator climbed out of a sewer manhole in New York City.

He came to Manhattan as a hatchling, purchased by hipster tourists on an ironic trip to Florida.  He grew, and when he got too large they simply flushed him down the toilet, thinking that would be that.

They were wrong.

The ‘gator proved a fast learner and even though his association with the hipsters proved brief, he quickly picked up their habits.

He knew how to imitate their lingo, their patois, their patter.  He crawled underneath coffee houses and night clubs, eavesdropping on their conversations, learning how to pass among them.

Gradually he assembled his disguise:  A porkpie hat, a narrow black tie that hung down his belly -- oh, yes, he learned how to walk upright; he knew he’d need to do that -- and a fake beard fashioned out of a discarded Chewbacca mask.

He let the manhole cover fall with a clang and began his walkabout of the city.  His disguise worked -- though granted New Yorkers felt compelled to act blasé’ about everything -- and he passed among them as a typical hipster.

He interrupted his stroll to peer into a pet store window.  He felt sorry for the animals and birds there, but what could he do?

“You gonna buy?  Or you just window shopping?” a cockatoo in the window asked.

“Gliding.  Just gliding,” said the hipster ‘gator.

“Well, beat it, then,” said the cockatoo.  “We don’t want you scaring off the customers.”

“I’m beat,” said the ‘gator.  “I’m beat.”

© Buzz Dixon