Rudolph is a distance runner. Every year he completes just the one race, although it does involve visiting every house in the world. Rudolph finds the hardest thing about his annual dash is not the distance, or the strict time limit, but putting up with his relentlessly cheerful passenger. Rudolph also detests his fellow reindeer – bullies who have never stopped making jokes about his nasal deformity.
Jill and Franklin are very in love. When they’re not gazing into each others’ eyes, they are happily finishing each others’ sentences or sharing a private joke. This makes them intensely annoying. Even close friends have started to avoid them, or just choose to meet them when they know they won’t both be there. Jill and Franklin haven’t noticed, of course – they’re too busy brainstorming venues for their first anniversary, which is only ten months away.
Evan loves opera. As a calf he encountered a marine biologist with a love of Puccini, and spent several weeks listening to La Boheme through the underwater speakers attached to the boat. Now snatches of Italian harmony pop into his giant brain at odd moments, causing him spontaneously to burst into song. This has so far only caused two groundings, but the dolphins still give him a wide berth.
Fran is out every night. When her friends are starting to think about a bus home, she’s just getting started. This has given her a reputation as a legendary drinker, although she hardly ever overdoes it. Her bloodshot eyes are mainly down to street repairs, which always seem to start just as Fran is dropping off. Her other pet hates are aeroplanes, schoolchildren and the postman, who whistles the same tune every day.
Paul is an old-fashioned alpha male. For years, he’s relied on intimidation and bullying to get his own way, and his routine has consisted of sex, naps and large banquets of red meat. But now his joints ache in the mornings, and he’s started to develop an alarming paunch. Paul knows that before long he’ll have to adjust his lifestyle, but lies awake at night haunted by visions of lycra sweatpants and kale.
Melody is sociable. She has an unerring memory for faces and names, and is never at a loss when meeting someone, no matter how long it is since she last saw them. She is invaluable when planning parties and excels at creating seating plans, expertly pairing like-minded people and keeping enemies apart. The constant stress of hosting, however, has left Melody with premature crow’s feet. All over her body.
Ewan is a thespian. From a very early age he dreamed of treading the boards, hobnobbing with the glitterati backstage and signing autographs for his adoring public. His repertoire of celebrity impressions is always a hit at parties, and yet the big break has never come. Ewan blames the rise of claymation for his stalled career. The showbiz world is only big enough for one wooly-pelted star, and the limelight is being hogged by a youngster who doesn’t even move his own limbs.
Tanya is tired. As a younger sloth, she had much more energy and used to enjoy playing hide-and-seek. But recently Tanya thinks games are embarrassing. In fact she thinks most things are embarrassing, especially her parents. Along with everything they say, do, wear or listen to. When Tanya isn’t sleeping, she is usually applying too much eye-liner or worrying that her back-moss looks wack.
Timothy likes the ladies. One day he’d like to marry and have children, but for now he’s happier playing the field. Contraception is an alien concept to Timothy, though, so his fleeting conquests have unwittingly led to hundreds of babies. If child support ever catches on in his warren, Timothy will have to lawyer up or hop it.
Maddie lives for her baby boy. She has studied all the theory on child development, and after long consideration, Maddie has decided against the Montessori method. Instead, she is adopting the traditional approach. This mainly involves naming him Joey, enrolling him in boxing lessons and carrying him in her pocket.
Geometry Zoo 