Alphabetacular Boredom Reprise

    Zoos are evil, I've decided. Yesterday my younger cousin Xavier insisted we go to the zoo. Xavier was a strange lad; bright, very intelligent in fact, but very excitable to the point of doing incredibly stupid stuff. What's a good way to put it? Vivacious, some would say, but I think I'll simply call it stupidity. Understand, please, that I don't hate the kid, but it's hard to ignore what happened yesterday. There's just no denying it anymore. So, I suppose you're anxious to hear why zoos are evil and why Xavier is so strange.
    "Ryan, can we go to the zoo, can we, can we?" my cousin asked loudly, while I was still in my bed, fast asleep and dreaming nice dreams. 
    "Quiet down!" I replied, waving my arm in an attempt to shush him.
    "Please oh please oh please?" he insisted.
    "Oh, fine, we'll go," I complied, "just give me a few minutes to get ready." Never would I have guessed that agreeing to do something with him would end so disastrously. 
    My house was only a few blocks away from the zoo, which partly explains why I hate the place so much. 
    "Let's go see the lions!" he exclaimed after we had arrived. Keeping up with him was difficult, as he was running ahead and I was trying to avoid appearing childish. 
    Just as I caught up with him at the lions, he took off again. "I want to see the zebras now!" He barely paused to look at the zebras before taking off again. "Giraffes now!" he decided, and I had to run to keep up this time. 
    Faster than I could think, Xavier jumped the fence and went to go play with the giraffes, so I wasn't left with many options. Entering the giraffes' area behind him, I followed him to a nearby giraffe. Donning my no-funny-business expression, I prepared to grab him and haul him out of there.
    "Can I ride him?" Xavier asked. Before I could answer, I accidentally stumbled and fell in a pile of giraffe poop. 
    And that's why zoos are evil.