Papa Woolybay and the Extremely Efficient Misadventure

Papa Woolybay did not fall exactly. He prefers the phrase “unexpected gravity negotiation.” Either way, the ground won, and his leg did not. By the time the Woolybay family finished arguing about whether this was fate, destiny, or just slippery optimism, Papa Woolybay was already at the Zanabia Clinic—because in Zanabia, even accidents respect punctuality. The clinic doors swung open, and out stepped Dr. Stripes—the zebra-headed physician whose stripes were so perfectly aligned that even X-ray machines felt intimidated. He didn’t rush. He arrived. “Papa Woolybay,” he said gently, adjusting his glasses, “your leg seems to have taken a short vacation without informing the rest of you.” Papa Woolybay nodded bravely. “It does that sometimes.” Before anyone could panic, a soft flutter-flutter announced the arrival of Mr. Bigness, the insurance agent with a sparrow’s head and the confidence of someone who has already processed the paperwork before you sat down. “I’ve approved the claim,” Mr. Bigness chirped, holding up a file. “Instant. Zanabian privilege. No forms, no stress, no dramatic sighing required.” Papa Woolybay blinked. “Already?” Mr. Bigness smiled. “I finished while you were being wheeled in.” Outside, leaning against the slightly dented car, stood Oran—the orangutan-headed garage expert. He scratched his chin thoughtfully. “Minor accident,” Oran said. “Car’s fine. Ego needs alignment. I’ll take it to the garage. She’ll come back happier than before.” The room fell quiet for a moment. Papa Woolybay looked around—at the striped doctor, the fluttering insurer, the calm mechanic, and his worried family. He smiled. “See?” he said softly. “This is why I love Zanabia. Even when you fall, you’re never down alone.” Dr. Stripes chuckled. Mr. Bigness preened. Oran revved the engine gently. And just like that, a broken leg turned into a reminder: In Zanabia, care arrives before fear—and kindness always beats gravity.