Monkeys.
Created | Updated Apr 8, 2002
I like monkeys. They were selling them at the pet store for 5 cents apiece, i thought this was kind of odd since they usually go for a couple thousand each. I'm not the kind of man to look a gift horse in the mouth, so I bought 200. 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 too bright. They kept punching themselves in the genitals. I laughed. Then they punched me in the genitals. I stopped laughing. I herded them into my room. They did not adapt too well to their new environment; they would hurl themselves at speeds in excess of eighty miles an hour into the walls from my bed and my sofa. Although amusing at first, the novelty wore off midway into the third hour. I then discovered why these monkeys were so inexpensive. They all died. No reason; they just kinda dropped down dead. Kinda like when you buy a goldfish from the local parish funfair and it dies five hours later. DAMN CHEAP MONKEYS! I decide to attempt to dispose of my monkeys. I try an flush one down the toilet. It got stuck. So now I have one dead wet monkey and 199 dead dry monkeys. I need the toilet, but there is a monkey in it. I try to pretend that my dead monkeys are all stuffed toys. This works for a while. That is until they start to decompose. The smell is not good. To slow down the decomposition process, i try and put my monkeys in the freezer. Unfortunately I can only fit in two at a time, so I have to change the monkeys every 30 seconds. I am getting angry at my inability to dispose of my monkeys. and to go to the bathroom. i think about calling a plumber, but I am too embarrassed. I severely beat one of my dry, thawed monkeys. I feel a lot better. I decide to burn my monkeys. Little did I know that my bed was flammable. I had to rapidly extinguish the flames. So know I have one dead wet monkey, 2 dead frozen monkeys in the freezer, and 197 dead charred monkeys in a pile on my bed. The garbage man comes and i take my monkeys to him. He tells me that the council cannot dispose of charred primates. I tell him I have a wet one. He can't take this either. I don't tell him about the frozen ones. I finally hit upon a solution for my monkey problem. I give them away as Christmas presents. My friends do not know quite what to say. They say that they like them, but I can tell that they are lying. Ingrates. So I punch them in their genitals.
I Like Monkeys.
I Like Monkeys.
