I Like Monkeys

I was shopping downtown one day and came upon a pet shop. I like animals so I went inside to see all the cute little buggers but instead I got a big surprise. This particular pet store was having a sale on monkeys for five cents a piece. I thought this was odd because monkeys should be a couple thousand, at least. So, not being one to look a gift-horse in the mouth, I slapped down five bucks and took home one hundred monkeys. I like monkeys.

The clerk stuffed the monkeys into a bag and I was off.

I have a big car so all the monkeys fit nicely. I was also kind of tired so I let one of the monkeys drive. I think his name was Sigmund. Sigmund was really dumb. I mean, if he was a kid he’d be ridding the short bus and wearing a helmet to school. In fact, the whole lot of them was kind of "r-tards". They kept punching themselves in the genitals. That made me laugh. Then they punched me in my genitals.

I stopped laughing.

I shuffled all the monkeys into my house where they didn’t adapt to well to there new environment. They would all scream like hell, hurl themselves off the couch at amazing speeds and slam into the wall. Although very amusing at first, ya know, flying monkeys, the spectacle soon lost its novelty. (At around the six hour mark.)

Exactly two hours after that I found out why the monkeys were so inexpensive. They all died. All one hundred of them. All at once and for no apparent reason. Damn cheep monkeys.

I didn’t quite know what to do. I had one hundred dead monkeys all over my house. I mean everywhere; on my bed, sticking out from under the couch, in the kitchen sink even in the closet-o-porn. (Don’t ask) It looked like I had one hundred throw rugs.

So, just like the best of us, I panicked a little bit. I tried to flush one of the monkeys, I thing it was Sigmund, down the toilet. It didn’t work and poor Sig’ got stuck. Now I had one wet, dead monkey named Sigmund and ninety nine plane dry dead ones whose names I did not catch.

I decided to pretend that all the monkeys were stuffed toys. It worked, for a time. Then they all started to stink. I think they were decomposing. My house started to smell a hell of a lot worse than is typical. Added to that, I found my growing desire to crap was impaired by Sigmund, who was still stuck in the toilet. I thought about calling a plumber but I was way too embarrassed.

Now I know by watching a lot of C.S.I., that cold slows the decomposition process, so I tried to freeze them. Unfortunately, there is only room enough for two monkeys in my freezer at any given time. So I had to keep changing them out to keep them all cool. This made me tired and did nothing for the smell of the food that was in my freezer. (My freezies still taste like monkey)

Well, that plan sucked so I tried burning them. I piled them up on my dinning room table and lit them on fire. Soon the room looked like the towering inferno. Who knew a wood table would be so flammable?

Now I had one dead, wet monkey named Sigmund stuck in my toilet, two frozen monkeys and ninety seven burnt monkeys on what’s left of my dining room table.

The odor was not pleasant. Or improving.

I quickly became agitated with myself, my inability to dispose of one hundred monkeys and the fact that Sigmund still occupied the toilet. I still had to shit.

So, I severely beat one of the monkeys. I felt better.

I took a crap in the yard next to mine and waited for the morning so I could toss the monkeys out in the trash. The garbage man said the he was not allowed to dispose of charred primates. I told him I had two frozen ones but he said he can’t take them either. I didn’t bother to ask for help with Sigmund.

A few hours later, Sigmund came walking out of the bathroom (after he tided up a bit) it seems they were all just sleeping after a busy day, Ooopps, my bad. Sigmund said it was o.k. cause the other monkeys were jerks anyway.

After talking things over with Sigmund (he’s a great listener) I surmised a solution. I ran down to the dollar store grabbed some tape and wrapping paper and now had Christmas gifts for all my friends. They all said they liked there presents but I could tell they were lying. So I punched them in the genitals.

I like monkeys.
Sigmund’s butt hurts.