Monday, May 13, 2002
Whenever visitors come to the commune offices, and one day I’m optimistic there will be visitors who are not merely there to take the furniture away, I smile brightly and yell out, “Welcome to the monkey house!”
Many think it is a colorful, humorous thing to say. It is, in fact, a warning. An attempt to keep visitors away. To save them from the horrors inside, even if they are here to repossess our materials. For the commune has become a house of horrors in recent weeks, and I owe it all to monkeys.
Yes, some well-intentioned individual, let’s just say for example it’s me though I’m not actually stating I did do it. But this person, this Red Bagel, supposed he could save a lot of money on cleaning people and certain money-grubbing reporters by bringing in monkeys who work for peanuts (or actually bananas, the elephants were the ones who wanted expensive peanuts) and slowly replace the entire staff in the hopes eventually the entire staff would be made up of banana-earning monkeys. Sometimes in the six-bunch range, but most in the one-bunch and under category.
Continuing with our hypothesis, let’s suppose that monkeys, while the smartest of all earth-walking non-dolphin mammals, still require a great deal of training, even more so than money-grubbing reporters and foreign cleaning people. Let’s say such a fact escaped our hypothetical Red Bagel person who, in perfectly innocent intentions, released wild, untrained monkeys into the commune offices assuming they would imitate the behavior of columnists, reporters, and cleaning people. While instead they have been content to scream loudly, jump on unrepossessed property until it smashes, climb walls, and hurl their eliminations at every non-monkey personnel on staff.
Now let’s suppose, for the sake of this discussion, that all of this is exactly what happened and this is where we’re at.
I have gotten to the end of my rope, loyal readers, and I’ve found a monkey swinging on it. I suggest monkeys are not smart, lovable, cute or cuddly, but in fact are wild animals with minor humanlike behaviors, but any of that humanlike behavior is usually hidden under the hideous crap-throwing creature behavior they have more fun exhibiting. We have been lied to by countless Clint Eastwood movies and Saturday morning live-action television series.
Needless to say, the commune is not functioning as it normally should this week. Most columnists and reporters are operating outside the office, from their homes or covering their stories in the field and submitting them to the printers outside. While I am trapped in my office, afraid to step outside where I’ll be pounded by less-than-attractive monkeys. It could be worse, I could be like Ramrod Hurley, whom they have dressed as one of their own and are apparently performing some kind of mating ritual with.
This should be taken care of within a short amount of time. I’ve hired some friends of mine, call them “cleaners,” and they’ll be taking care of these monkeys soon enough, no questions asked. I will be alright, assuming I can keep my office barricaded and avoid the mating ritual.
Until then, I hope you can continue to enjoy the commune as monkey-free as you can. Do not visit the offices, if I need remind you, and please excuse any feces on or in this column.
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