Chauncey, The World’s Most Adorable Giraffe, Has a Special Message For You

And it is:

“Hello! John Scalzi has several very important things he needs to do today before he can come and play with you all, so he told me to tell you that he’ll probably be out for most of the day. He sent me because I’m so adorable that you can’t help but be winsomely amused by whatever I do or say. See how I’m cocking my head? Adorable!

“Anyway, Scalzi says to feel free to talk amongst yourselves and he’ll see you probably later this afternoon. Okay, bye now!

“Oh! And I almost forgot: The reason my head is adorably cocked? I’m looking at that thing you got stuck between your teeth. Really, man. You need to, like, brush or something. Just saying.”

20 Comments on “Chauncey, The World’s Most Adorable Giraffe, Has a Special Message For You”

  1. Private zoo at the Scalzi compound…facial surgery and Pepsi commercials can’t be far behind at this point.

  2. Having exhausted the perpetual adorableness of cats, John has now resorted to co-opting zoo animal cuteness to keep us all at bay from knowing who won the duck story contest.

    Surely it is a conspiracy of animals at the Scalzi household.

    Has Kodi’s mind control techniques have finally born fruit, or is it the presence of the adorable Zeus who now controls the Scalzi Manse? Look, he’s right up there at the top of the page, looking down at us all in feline disdain, it’s Zeus. Oh, not only has he won us all with his adorable cuteness, we never saw his diabolical machinations until it was too late.

    It’s too late.

    And now I need to go brush my teeth again. Why? I don’t know, I just gotta.

  3. I, for one, welcome our feline overlords. Or something.

  4. It’s one thing when you find stray dogs and cats near your house, John. But stray giraffes? You may want to contact whatever organization accredits the zoo that’s nearest to your house …

  5. Mmmm. Giraffe steaks. Sure brings back memories.

    I understand the horns make a nice appetizer as well.

    Any favorite recipes?

  6. changterhune – Before you hear lies from Chang Terhune himself, we thought we’d tell you the truth: without us, his old action figures, he’d be nowhere. He loved science fiction from way back and began reading it at an early age, but it was through us that he acted it all out. That’s what led to the writing. He watched a lot of science fiction shows like Star Trek, U.F.O, and movies, too. But we were always there to do his bidding. And it’s like they say: you always forget about the little people on your way up. Oh, the 70’s and early 80’s with him were good times! He’d use these blocks and make all the crazy buildings for us to be in his stories. I gotta say the kid’s imagination was pretty damn fertile. Oh, he had friends, but they just weren’t into it like him. He was like the Lance Armstrong of action figures. And of science fiction. At first, when he began writing in the eighth grade, we didn’t mind. He still made time for us. And we knew that when he was holding us in his sweaty little hands and he got that far off look in his eye, he’d come back to burying us in the back yard or - god forbid! – blowing us up with firecrackers. But it was worth it for a part in one of those stories. We loved him for it. He kept us around even when we were minus a leg or two - or even a head. In that mind of his, he found a use for all of us. Then he discovered girls. October, 1986. It was like the end of the world. One day we’re standing in the middle of this building block creation he’d pretended was some marble city on a planet near Alpha Centauri and the next we were stuck in a box in the closet. Not even a “See ya later!” Nope, it was into the closet, then we heard some high-pitched girly-giggles then silence. We didn’t see him for years. We got word about him once in a while. Heard he took up writing, but it was crap like “The Breakfast Club” only with better music. We couldn’t believe it. Not Charlie. What happened to those aliens with heads he’d sculpted out of wax? Spaceships? Those complex plots? All gone. For what? You guessed it: Girls. Emotions. “Serious fiction.” I tell you, it was like hearing Elvis had left the building. During our two decade exile in the closet, we heard other things about him. He went to college. He wrote a lot, but not much he really liked. We knew it even then. It was like he didn’t dare write science fiction. Some of us had lost hope and just lay there. Others kept vigil, hoping for a day we didn’t dare speak about. Then we heard he’d stopped writing in 1996. Did he come to reclaim us? No. He took up music for ten years or so. He took up yoga. Once in a while, he’d visit us in the closet. But it was half-hearted. His mind was elsewhere. Then one day, he really did come back for us. One second we’re in the dark and the next thing we know we’re in a car headed for Massachusetts. Suddenly we got a whole shelf to ourselves out in broad daylight! Then he bought a bunch of others form some planet called Ebay. He’d just sit and stare at us with that old look. But why were we suddenly back in the picture? He had a wife now, who didn’t mind that he played with us. So what had happened? Turns out he’d never forgotten about those stories. He’d been thinking about all of us and the stories he’d made up and then remembered he’d been a writer once. From the shelf we could see him typing away. Before long he’s got a whole novel together! Then he’s working on another one. Word is there are two more in the planning stages! Some short stories, too! It’s good to see him using his imagination again. Its good to know he never abandoned us. He returned to his true love of science fiction. We hear the stories are pretty good. Someday we’ll get one of the cats to score us a copy of the manuscript. Man, it’s good to be out of the damn closet! --- I'm smarter than you I'm harder than you I'm better than you I'm just raw I'm hotter than you More popular than you More clever than you And goshdarn it, people like me I'm smarter than you I'm harder than you I'm better than you I'm just raw I'm hotter than you More popular than you More clever than you And goshdarn it, people like me
    Chang, cranky.

    You know, they have a spray for that now.

  7. changterhune – Before you hear lies from Chang Terhune himself, we thought we’d tell you the truth: without us, his old action figures, he’d be nowhere. He loved science fiction from way back and began reading it at an early age, but it was through us that he acted it all out. That’s what led to the writing. He watched a lot of science fiction shows like Star Trek, U.F.O, and movies, too. But we were always there to do his bidding. And it’s like they say: you always forget about the little people on your way up. Oh, the 70’s and early 80’s with him were good times! He’d use these blocks and make all the crazy buildings for us to be in his stories. I gotta say the kid’s imagination was pretty damn fertile. Oh, he had friends, but they just weren’t into it like him. He was like the Lance Armstrong of action figures. And of science fiction. At first, when he began writing in the eighth grade, we didn’t mind. He still made time for us. And we knew that when he was holding us in his sweaty little hands and he got that far off look in his eye, he’d come back to burying us in the back yard or - god forbid! – blowing us up with firecrackers. But it was worth it for a part in one of those stories. We loved him for it. He kept us around even when we were minus a leg or two - or even a head. In that mind of his, he found a use for all of us. Then he discovered girls. October, 1986. It was like the end of the world. One day we’re standing in the middle of this building block creation he’d pretended was some marble city on a planet near Alpha Centauri and the next we were stuck in a box in the closet. Not even a “See ya later!” Nope, it was into the closet, then we heard some high-pitched girly-giggles then silence. We didn’t see him for years. We got word about him once in a while. Heard he took up writing, but it was crap like “The Breakfast Club” only with better music. We couldn’t believe it. Not Charlie. What happened to those aliens with heads he’d sculpted out of wax? Spaceships? Those complex plots? All gone. For what? You guessed it: Girls. Emotions. “Serious fiction.” I tell you, it was like hearing Elvis had left the building. During our two decade exile in the closet, we heard other things about him. He went to college. He wrote a lot, but not much he really liked. We knew it even then. It was like he didn’t dare write science fiction. Some of us had lost hope and just lay there. Others kept vigil, hoping for a day we didn’t dare speak about. Then we heard he’d stopped writing in 1996. Did he come to reclaim us? No. He took up music for ten years or so. He took up yoga. Once in a while, he’d visit us in the closet. But it was half-hearted. His mind was elsewhere. Then one day, he really did come back for us. One second we’re in the dark and the next thing we know we’re in a car headed for Massachusetts. Suddenly we got a whole shelf to ourselves out in broad daylight! Then he bought a bunch of others form some planet called Ebay. He’d just sit and stare at us with that old look. But why were we suddenly back in the picture? He had a wife now, who didn’t mind that he played with us. So what had happened? Turns out he’d never forgotten about those stories. He’d been thinking about all of us and the stories he’d made up and then remembered he’d been a writer once. From the shelf we could see him typing away. Before long he’s got a whole novel together! Then he’s working on another one. Word is there are two more in the planning stages! Some short stories, too! It’s good to see him using his imagination again. Its good to know he never abandoned us. He returned to his true love of science fiction. We hear the stories are pretty good. Someday we’ll get one of the cats to score us a copy of the manuscript. Man, it’s good to be out of the damn closet! --- I'm smarter than you I'm harder than you I'm better than you I'm just raw I'm hotter than you More popular than you More clever than you And goshdarn it, people like me I'm smarter than you I'm harder than you I'm better than you I'm just raw I'm hotter than you More popular than you More clever than you And goshdarn it, people like me
    Chang, cranky.

    It’s right above the cans of “Bacon Cat in A Can.”

  8. Okay, is he gone now? Let’s go look behind those sofa cushions for spare change. Hurry, before he gets back.

    Dr. Phil

  9. As long as someone doesn’t put bacon on Chauncey. That would make it treyf. ANd it’s so rare that John posts a picture of an animal on his site I can taste without disappointing my orthodox ancestors.

    Unfortunately, I’ve never had the chance to taste giraffe meat. But that’s a long story.

  10. Your mission, Mr. Scalzi, should you decide to accept it, is tape bacon to Chauncey the giraffe, take a photo, and post it to the Internet. As always, should you or any of your IM Force be caught or killed, the Secretary will disavow any knowledge of your actions.

  11. Dr. Phil, #11

    While you’re looking for spare change I’ll be in his sub-sub-dimensionally sideways-sub-basement looking for his store of Ubaid Stout. (Wronwright (keyword “wronwright” at Tim’s place) and his Sumerian Ale can eat my shorts.)

  12. “facial surgery and Pepsi commercials can’t be far behind at this point.”

    At least John wouldn’t have to worry about hair fires.

    Doh!

  13. *darts about the Scalzi home humming the Mission Impossible theme while hunting for the results of the duck contest.*

    Drat! He hid them good.

    *Vaults out a window, shaking her fist*

    I’ll get you next time, Scalzi! Next Time!

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