"It's those prehensile lips," said Ugee, one of the zookeepers in the Earth section. Ugee resembled a small horse. "The moose keep unlatching the door and getting out at night."
"I could install a sliding latch," suggested Ugoo. "The moose is such a majestic creature. It probably figured out how to lift the current drop-latch."
"Will a sliding latch be enough?" asked Ugee. "Having a moose on the loose is dangerous." Ugoo ignored her, getting to work replacing the latch.
Continuing her tour of the zoo, around a corner, Ugee tossed a pebble at one of the monkeys, a human. "[It was simply the way it to me and the people that we have to get them back in time for this year eerily quiet that they are not giving us any more thing to say and to be absolutely anything]", said the human. "What a strange chortling noise those things make," said Ugee.
The Zoo of the Seven Evil Underpants was a popular tourist destination for the Ugaboo. The Ugaboo resembled small horses with dragonfly eyes and very dexterous lips. The Earth section had large hoofed animals, tortoises, large cats, various dogs, squirrels, and the ever-popular monkeys. Many of the monkeys were amazing acrobats. The human mostly squatted, rocking back and forth, hugging her knees, with her long black hair covering her face and nearly reaching the ground. Apart from the occasional babbling the human was pretty boring.
That next morning the moose was out again. It took five trained handlers to herd it back into its cage. "I think we're underestimating its intelligence," said Ugee. "Try a different latch ... not physically impossible, but something tricky? Knotted?"
The next morning the moose was out again, chewing the Vezwelian curd-vines. The Earth section had to open late due to chasing the moose about before they could cage it again.
"Amazing! Moose are apparently much more capable than we realized," said Ugee. "We'll take no more chances. Install a latch that the moose cannot possibly reach."
The next morning the moose was out again. "How is this possible?" asked Ugoo. "You can't open a cage unless you can physically reach the latch ... can you? Is it psychokinetic or something?"
That night, again with the unreachable latch, Ugee stayed up all night, watching the latch. Whatever happened, she would see it, and she would know.
Late that night the human unlatched her cage, heard Ugee near the moose, and avoided that area. She unlatched the lion's cage instead. The lion looked up, interested. Leaving the lion's cage ajar, she returned to her own cage, carefully latching it again.
"[Here, kitty, kitty ...]"
Panicked, out of breath, Ugee hurridly lifted the latch to the human's cage, went in, and closed it behind her. The lion was sauntering down the path towards them at a leisurely trot. The human briefly lifted her head from sleep, then lowered it again.
"[As true as the Vernons have Brian's sword, and a dozen and one by tilly tallows round the tingcampf, circumassembled by his daughters in the foregiftness of his sons, lying high as he lay in all dimensions]", mumbled the human.
"You can say that again," said Ugee.
This was in response to a prompt on reddit.com r/WritingPrompts, "It was simply the way it to me and the people that we have to get them back in time for this year eerily quiet that they are not giving us any more thing to say and to be absolutely anything".