* I Sure do Like Monkeys *
The pet store was selling them for 5¢ a piece. Can you believe it? I thought it odd since they were normally a couple thousand each. I decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth, and Dianne Fossey be damned. I bought 200. I like monkeys. Monkeys is fun.
I took my 200 monkeys home. I have a big car, and there was room for all my monkeys. I let one monkey drive. His name was Sigmund. He was retarded. In fact, none of them were really very bright. They kept punching themselves in their genitals. I laughed. Then they punched my genitals. I stopped laughing.
My genitals had stopped throbbing by the time we reached my home and, I herded them monkeys into my room. They didn't adapt very well to their new environment. They would screech, hurl themselves off of the couch at high speeds and slam into the wall. Do you suppose monkeys in the wild run around hurling themselves off of sofas and smack dead into walls? Boy it sure looked pretty silly the way they kept doin that, let me tell ya. Although humorous at first, this spectacle lost its novelty halfway into its third hour.
Two hours later I found out why all the monkeys were so inexpensive: they all died. No apparent reason. They all just sorta' dropped dead. Kinda' like when you buy a goldfish and it dies five hours later. Or you know the kind of goldfish you won at the fair when you was a kid, and it died and you cried your self to sleep thinking you would go to hell cause it was your fault that the goldfish died, and you thought to punish your self by punching your genitals till you passed out from pain. Well I didn't feel this way about my monkeys, even though I missed them something terrible. I knew there was something awry with these monkeys when I first bought them. I mean who ever heard of 5¢ monkeys, any old way. Damn cheap monkeys.
I sure was in a pickle at that very moment. I didn't know what to do. There were 200 dead monkeys lying all over my room, on the bed, in the dresser, hanging from my bookcase. It looked like I had 200 throw rugs. How does one dispose of 200 hundred dead monkeys, when your done playing with them? I thought I could take them to the park and pass them out to children, or set up a Dead Monkey Booth at the mall. But I really didn't feel like hauling dead monkeys around.
I tried to flush one down the toilet. It didn't work. It got stuck. Then I had one dead, wet monkey and 199 dead, dry monkeys. Boy, did I feel like the fool.
I tried pretending that they were just stuffed animals. That worked for a while, that is until they began to decompose. It started to smell real bad. You know, kinda like those blue toilet shacks at the state fair. It were not a pretty thing.
I had to pee but there was a dead monkey in the toilet and I didn't want to call the plumber. I was embarrassed. How do you explain that to a guy? Um, man I don't recall what I ate last night but it smells like dead monkeys in there! Do you suppose you get away with that?
I tried to slow down the decomposition by freezing them. Unfortunately there was only enough room for two monkeys at a time so I had to change them every 30 seconds. I also had to eat all the food in the freezer so it didn't all go bad. That's ok though because I was powerful hungry, by that time.
I tried burning them. Little did I know my bed was flammable. I had to extinguish the fire, and I had had to pee for some time so that wasn't to much of a problem.
Then I had one dead, wet monkey in my toilet, two dead, frozen monkeys in my freezer, and 197 dead, charred and urine soaked monkeys in a pile on my bed. The odor wasn't improving. I had to open a window and turn on the fan.
I became agitated at my inability to dispose of my monkeys and to use the bathroom (number 2 this time). My anger got the better of me and I severely beat one of my monkeys. It was kinda fun, on account of the monkey didn't fight back. Maybe other people would like a dead monkey on which to take out their aggressions. I felt better, but I sure wished I could find away to rid myself of these monkeys, and it wouldn't hurt if I could make a profit in the process.
I tried throwing them away but the garbage man said that the city wasn't allowed to dispose of charred primates. I told him that I had a wet one. He couldn't take that one either. I didn't bother asking about the frozen ones. That really burns my bridges, I mean those guys make loads of money, He could have taken some of the monkeys, you know - on the 'Hush Hush' tip.
I finally arrived at a solution. I gave them out as Christmas gifts. My friends didn't know quite what to say. They pretended that they liked them but I could tell they were lying. Ingrates! After all I went through to get these gifts and their going to act like that. So I punched them in the genitals. Then I laughed till my belly hurt.
Boy, I sure do like monkeys! Sometimes I miss those monkeys. Then I remember them hitting me on my genitals. Then I don't miss them monkeys so much, after that.
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