On a hike through the bush, he came across a young bull elephant standing with one leg raised in the air. The elephant seemed distressed, so Peter approached it very carefully. He got down on one knee, inspected the elephants foot, and found a large piece of wood deeple embedded in it. As carefully and as gently as he could, Peter worked the wood out with his knife, after which the elephant gingerly put down its foot.
The elephant turned to face Peter and with a rather curious look on its face, stared at him for several tense moments. Peter stood frozen, thinking of nothing else but being trampled. Eventually the elephant trumpeted loudly, turned and walked away. Peter never forgot that elephant or the events of that day.
Twenty years later, Peter was walking through the Chicago Zoo with his teenage son. As they approached the elephant enclosure, one of the elephants turned and walked over to where Peter and his son were standing. The large bull elephant stared at Peter, lifted its front foot of the ground, then put it down. The elephant did that several times then trumpeted loudly, all the while staring at Peter.
Remembering the encounter in 1986, Peter could not help wondering if this was the same elephant. Peter summoned up his courage, climbed over the railing and made his way into the enclosure. He walked right up to the elephant and stared back in wonder. The elephant trumpeted again, and wrapped its trunk around one of Peters legs and slammed him against the railing, killing him instantly.
Probably wasn't the same fucking elephant.
This is for everyone who like those heart-warming bullshit stories.
