A short, not at all silly, true story.

         The summer after freshman year I was forced to get a job by my parents. I filled out multiple applications and sent them in. About seven days after sending in my applications I was requested for an interview at the zoo. Upon entering the zoo’s office I was asked to take a seat with the other ninety-three and a half people. An hour later a stubby little man in a toga and disco boots called me to the back. After drilling me for twenty minutes straight he told me they would notify me if I had gotten the position and then he sent me home. That Saturday I was getting ready to milk my pet llama to make a vanilla milkshake when my phone began to ring. “Hello?” I said.
         “May I speak to a Mr. Jacob Halbrooks?” a celestial female voice asked into my ear.
         “This would be him,” I replied back into the phone.
         “I’m calling from the Birmingham Zoo about the job you applied for,” She began, “can you start Monday at 8:30 P.M.?”
         “Sure!” I said, hanging up the phone to finish my milkshakes.
         Monday came and I woke up abnormally early to get ready for my first day of work. Around eight I climbed onto my segway and headed off to the zoo. When I arrived, I was introduced to a man named Howard Moon and instructed to follow him around my first couple of days. As we walked deeper into the zoo I asked him what it was we were going to be doing. He told me that we would be looking after the zoo’s most high maintenance animal, the unicorn.
         “I thought unicorns didn’t exist?” I asked.
         “They do, but this is the last one on earth.” He replied with a sad sigh.
         When I saw the unicorn I was stunned, its perfect snowy white coat and magnificent silver horn gleaming in the sunlight was beyond any beauty I had ever seen.
         “His name is Gilbert by the way.” Howard told me as I stared at the animal. We began the day by feeding Gilbert six bowls of rainbows harvested from the leprechauns kept in the zoo’s dungeon. For the next three hours we cleaned his coat, shined his hoofs, polished his horn, and brushed his tail. Around twelve I asked Howard what we were going to feed him for lunch.
         “He eats the souls of children who come by on their elementary school field trips.” Howard told me in a cheerful tone.
         "Oh that’s cool, they don’t really need those things anyway.” I replied.
         When I got home from work that night I couldn’t wait to get to sleep so I could see Gilbert again. The next morning I woke up bright and early and headed off for the zoo. When I got there I couldn’t find Howard. While I was looking for him a man came up to me and told me Howard had perished during a boxing match between him and a Kangaroo. I was devastated at this news but knew I had to go about my daily routine in taking care of Gilbert. I went down to the dungeon and picked up a few rainbows while ignoring the cries of pain and pleads for help coming from the leprechauns.
         As I was feeding Gilbert I noticed he looked very distraught as if he knew Howard was gone. I began to clean his coat and hoofs. While I was polishing his horn it snapped off in my hand. I panicked not knowing what to do. I threw it in the bushes thinking no one would notice.
         During lunch time I noticed the children were looking a little too happy for kids having their souls eaten by a unicorn. I went to Gilbert’s cage to see why he wasn’t eating and found him dead on the floor. I knew I had to tell the zoo's officials what had happened even though I wanted to blame it on those no good leprechauns. I went into my boss’s room to break the news. When I told him he got very angry and fired me.
         I learned a lot that summer. I learned you can’t fool around when working, especially when you’re taking care of a unicorn. I also learned sometimes things happen and you have to take responsibility, even if there are no good dirty leprechauns around for you to blame it on. But most importantly, I learned never to break a unicorn’s horn. It was definitely a very maturing summer for me.