The fat whale overslept and missed his bus. One more day like this and I'm going to see the buzzard, he said. The next morning same thing. That's it, the fat whale said, off to the buzzard with me. At the buzzard's apartment things were a bubblin'. He stood before the front steps, alarm clock in hand, and looked up at the third floor window, where from he could hear turkey's arguing, proud-fish sobbing, a lion overcome with loneliness, and what sounded like a buffalo stomping around in indignation. Maybe another day, the fat whale said.