Page 2 of Tiger Queen

I shook my head.

“Are you serious? You spent the last four years in the Florida State Veterinary Medicine program and never heard of Crazy Carl’s Zoo? Rachel, this place is awful. It’s a poorly-maintained dump. They illegally breed and sell tigers to private buyers, they abuse their animals. And the owner—Crazy Carl Haines—is more insane than anyone on Tiger King.”

“On what?”

She gawked at me. “Tiger King. The Netflix show. Didn’t you watch it during the pandemic last spring? With Joe Exotic and Carol Baskin and all the other psychos?”

“You know I don’t watch much TV,” I replied. “And I especially hate documentaries where the animals are abused.”

Ashley’s fingers were a blur on the keyboard as she pulled up YouTube. “Rumor has it they wouldn’t show Crazy Carl on the show because he was too crazy. And trust me—that’s saying something. Check this out.”

A video began to play. It had the production quality of something filmed in the nineties, showing a jungle landscape. A pixelated tiger ran across the screen, accompanied by a roar. The tiger ran across the screen in the other direction, with another roar.

Suddenly a man jumped into frame. The first thing I noticed was that he was very clearly in front of a green screen. The second thing I noticed was that he was indeed as crazy as his name implied. The sides of his head were shaved, and in the middle was a red mohawk that looked like the curved head of a broom. He had on a leather biker vest that was covered in military valor and small silver spikes. He wore nothing under the vest, revealing a chest and arms filled with tattoos. Completing the image were a pair of jeans shorts and big black combat boots.

“I’m Crazy Carl!” he happily announced to the camera. “And down here at Crazy Carl’s Zoo, we’ve got all the big cats you’ve ever wanted to see! Lions, panthers, cheetahs… and of course, tigers! YEAH BABY!”

“What the…”

Ashley looked up at me. “Right?”

Crazy Carl pointed at the camera. “For just fifty dollars, you and your whole family can come on down and have your photo taken with the tigers. That’s right—get the perfect Facebook or Instagram or Tinder photo to make your friends jealous.”

“Tinder?” I said. “I assumed this video was twenty years old!”

Two assault rifles flew into frame. Crazy Carl caught one in each hand. “We’ve got food, we’ve got fun. Come on down to Crazy Carl’s Zoo and have yourself a good time. YEAH BABY!”

He fired both assault rifles into the air, and then the zoo logo rolled into the middle of the screen like a bad PowerPoint presentation. There was a final fake tiger roar sound, and then the video ended.

I chuckled. “That was something. I’m not sure what, but it was something. So this guy is hiring?”

“Yeah!” Ashley switched tabs to the job posting. “They’re looking for a zoo vet for a three-month contract. I can’t believe it.”

“What can’t you believe?”

“This guy’s famous for locking down his zoo like a fortress,” Ashley explained. “They never hire outside people. Nobody has ever gotten in to see the quality of animal care they really have. So to post a job like this…” She shook her head. “It doesn’t make sense.”

“They must be desperate,” I said. “Most self-respecting vets would never work at a place like that if it’s as bad as you say.”

I got up to pee. It felt weird seeing everything gone in our bathroom—no towels or makeup or the fifteen bottles of hair product Ashley usually had out. Just a small bag of toiletries I could easily grab in the morning. When I came back to the living room I found Ashley using my laptop.

“What are you doing?”

She emphatically hit enter on the keyboard. “I just applied to the job.”

“What job?”

“The job. Crazy Carl’s.”

“What! You’re joking!” I snatched my laptop and checked the Sent folder. Sure enough there was a single email sent to [email protected] with my resume attached.

“Why would you do that!”

“It’ll be funny to see what this dude says!” Ashley insisted. “It couldn’t hurt, and it’ll give us some laughs.”

“Then why not apply yourself?”

“Are you crazy? I don’t want that psychopath having my email!”

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