Alliedassault - I like Monkeys

The pet store was selling monkeys for five cents a piece. I
thought this was odd since they were normally a couple thousand.
I decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth so I bought 200
of them. I like monkeys.

I took my 200 monkeys home. I have a big car. I let one of
drive. His name was Sigmund. He was retarded. In fact, none of
them were really bright. They kept punching themselves in the
genitals. I laughed. They punched me in the genitals. I stopped
laughing.

I herded them into my room. They didn't adapt very well to their
new environment. They would screech and hurl themselves off the
couch at high speeds and slam into the wall. Although humorous
at first, the spectacle lost its novelty halfway 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
sort of dropped dead. Kinda like when you buy a goldfish and it
dies five hours later. Goddamn cheap monkeys.

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. I tried to flush
one down the toilet. It didn't work. It got stuck. Then I had
one dead, wet monkey and one hundred ninety-nine dead, dry
monkeys.

I tried to pretend that they were just stuffed animals. That
worked for awhile, that is until they began to decompose. It
started to smell real bad. I had to pee but there was a dead
monkey in my toilet and I didn't want to call a plumber. I was
embarrassed.

I tried to slow down the decomposition by freezing them.
Unfortuantely there was only enough room for two 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 go bad. I tried to burn them,
but little did I know that my bed was flammable. I had to
extinguish the fire.

Then I had one dead, wet monkey in my toilet, two dead, frozen
monkeys in my freezer, and one hundred ninety-seven dead,
charred monkeys in a pile on my bed, The odor wasn't
improving.

I became agitated at my inability to dispose of the dead monkeys
and I really had to use the bathroom. So I went and severely
beat one of the monkeys. I felt better.

I tried throwing them away but the garbage man said the city was
not allowed to dispose of charred primates. I told him I had a
wet one. He couldn't take it 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 quite know what to say. They pretended
to like them, but I could tell they were lying. Ingrates. So I
punched them in the genitals.

I like monkeys.