spokesman for the fox "He is, as they say, 'an original.' Let us welcome Kaspar Klein." Kaspar Klein emerges from the shadows, a dark stain on his trousers, which grows as the audience erupts in horrified laughter, aware that he has wet himself. With a goofy grin Kaspar Klein removes his ruined trousers, revealing a fox's tail and hindquarters covered in thick russet fur. The beast's thighs are quivering as he tries to remain poised on two legs. In a reedy voice he announces, "I come here tonight as a spokesman for the fox. I, Kaspar Klein. The fox has been treated as an intruder on his own land, everywhere there are men. The compact he has with Nature is that his intelligence and speed make him a natural regulator, feeding not on worms or grass, but on those who eat such things. When a fox is hungry he will eat a mouse or a sparrow, n'est-ce pas?—but he prefers larger game, and that is his right, it is what he was made for. A fox should be treated with respect, as a prince, a free spirit, not made to beg for scraps at the table of his masters." Kaspar Klein clicks his jaw to show he is done and returns to parade rest position, hands folded over his exposed belly and loins. His jacket with its moiré-patterned sheen, his fine silk shirt hang loose over the hindquarters of a fox. The dullwitted, somewhat pudgy human features of the upper half of his body make a bizarre contrast to this, and one wonders exactly where under his fine garments the fox stops and the person begins.
	location: San Francisco date: Winter 1997–1998 average rating: [not rated] your rating (0-10):