Her face, bilious and choleric, she could not tell if the man looked bug eyed because she had told him the surprising news, or because he had big bug eyes. Otherwise, his face was vacant, vapid, and blank. His mouth, slack. His jaw, also slack. His nose and chin, fixed and unblinking. His whole flat demeanor made her lips petulant and her skull, sardonic.
She turned to the ape. A range of emotions flickered through its simian face: from stolid to deadpan to straight, back to deadpan, and then on to glazed and inscrutable. “I am not a monkey,” the primate solemnly intoned, and then the gibbon gave the bug eyed man and the dour woman a group hug.