Me, sitting at the edge of my garden, stuffing my face from the source

“It was in my second year at the zoological garden when my caretaker, Alestair, began using them as an object of positive reinforcement that I discovered my love for the fruit. Now I hardly ever fling my own feces at zoo patrons.”

• Nanners in Memoires of a Spectacle: My Time as a Zoo Exhibit

Somehow doesn’t look like 1776 at all, except maybe because of the sightly unrealistic perspective/pose/not sure but the head looks off somehow.