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| I like monkeys! The pet store was selling them for five cents a piece. I
thought that odd considering they are normally a couple of thousand. I decided not to look
a gift horse in the mouth. I bought 200. I like monkeys. I took my 200 monkeys home. I
have a big car. I let one drive. His name was Sigmund. He was retarded. In fact, none of
them were really very bright. They kept punching themselves in the genitals. I laughed.
The they punched my genitals. I stopped laughing. I herded them into my room. They didn't
adapt very well to their new environment. They would screech, hurl themselves off the
couch at high speeds and slam into the wall. Although humorous at first, the spectacle
lost it's novelty half way into it's 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 gold fish and it dies 5 hours later. Damn cheap
monkeys. I didn't know what to do. There were 200 dead monkeys lying all over the room, on
the bed, in the dresser, and hanging from my bookcase. It looked like I had 200 throw
rugs. I tried flushing one down the toilet. It didn't work. It got stuck. Then I had 1
dead wet monkey and 199 dead dry monkeys. I tried pretending they were just stuffed
animals. That worked for a while, that is until they began to decompose. It started to
smell really bad. 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. 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 wouldn't
all go bad. I tried burning them. Little did I know my bed was flammable. I had to
extinguish the fire. Then, I had 1 dead wet monkey, 2 dead frozen monkeys, and 197 dead
charred monkeys in a pile on my bed. The odor wasn't improving. I became agitated at my
inability to dispose of my monkeys and to use the bathroom. I severely beat one of my
monkeys. I felt better. I tried throwing them away but the garbage man said that the city
was not allowed to dispose of charred primates. I told him I had a wet one. He couldn't
take that one either. I didn't bother asking about the frozen ones. 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 like them but I could tell they were lying. Ingrates. So, I
punched them in the genitals. I like monkeys.
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