He wasn’t. He was here for Tumaini —a rare, talking gray parrot last seen trading insults with a poacher outside Arusha. But the case had taken a turn. A sacred Maasai chief’s staff had vanished the same night. The parrot had been spotted riding a wildebeest. And someone had glued a fake horn onto a very confused donkey.
The giraffe nodded slowly, then spat out a crumpled napkin with a single word written in ketchup: “Okomfo.”
The sweltering African sun beat down on the red earth of the Serengeti. Inside a rattling Land Rover, Ace Ventura adjusted his zebra-print bucket hat, stuck two fingers in his mouth, and let out a shrieking, warbling call that sent a nearby troop of baboons scattering. ace ventura in africa
“You again,” Ace said.
“Relax, boys,” he said to the monkeys, “I’m just here for the rhino.” He wasn’t
Suddenly, a dust storm erupted. Out of the whirlwind stumbled a giraffe wearing sunglasses.
“Tuesday,” he mumbled through fur. “Definitely Tuesday.” A sacred Maasai chief’s staff had vanished the same night
And with that, Ace Ventura—now wearing a leopard-print thong over his shorts, because Africa—dove headfirst into a termite mound, emerging seconds later with a stolen emerald and a very angry meerkat riding his face.