Evil Monkey Goes Feral in the Summer? plus 1

EVIL MONKEY GOES FERAL IN THE SUMMER

           The grumpy old man wanted time off for the summer! Her keeper is intent on getting her fat on a diet of bananas and bread; sometimes even banana bread! 
           Tiki, the sock monkey of Whittier Elementary school, growled and slowly, but inevitably, went feral.
                                                                                   ***
           Tiki, running the dense jungle on all fours, stopped suddenly, her ears swiveling, nostrils flaring. Two things of interest were near her; to the southwest a big jungle cat seeking its prey. The second interest, the prey. Tiki's jungle gut growled with hunger. “Shh!” Tiki growled softly back.
           First, get rid of the big cat. She jumped to the vine, moving all but silent and invisible in the jungle's canopy. Stalking, nothing to be heard but the careful cat's slight tread and a drop of saliva from Tiki's right canine tooth. The cat heard the drip and stopped, sniffing the air in vain. Tiki strikes!
                                                                                   ***
           Keeper, the redheaded house-mate to Tiki, saw the bunch of bananas in the kitchen table bowl, untouched. That little darling monkey of hers seems to not be eating. And, dear, where is he? Oh, oh, I mean she! Keeper, the fourth-grade teacher, looked in the living room. Couch empty. Floor a bit whitish. Her fern's leaf wiggled. The cat was on the floor; it couldn't be her.
           Egad! Sock monkey jumped out of plant and landed on top of kitty! My! Kitty ran by keeper, went to her special corner, and shivered. Keeper went to reproach monkey, but Tiki hissed at keeper and disappeared into the vines.
           Keeper got worried.
                                                                                   ***
           The cat worried rouge monkey, but the hiss sent the giant cat on its way. Ha, ha! And that narrow escape from King Kong! Monkey was living her life on the ragged edge!
           But now, back to the point of it all. Evil monkey needed food. She crept silently through the vines. She peaked out, and reward! The rabbit was cropping grass. Monkey sprang! They clashed, bouncing off of tree trunks, rolling on the newly devastated earth, finally evil monkey got the upper hand! The rabbit hung motionless from primal evil monkey's teeth. At last, evil monkey got the nourishment she would need to survive the jungle.
                                                                                   ***
           “I don't know what to do, grumpy old man,” keeper of sock monkeys said into the phone. “She called me King Kong, hissed at me, then hid among my houseplants!” She listened a bit. “Yes, I would suppose that all adults look like King Kong to sock monkeys. What is she doing right now? It looks like she's trying to eat one of my bunny slippers.” More listening.  “I know, grumpy old man, August twenty-fourth is a few months off, but--” Listen and listen. “I see, but how am I going to lure her--” Angry listening. “Okay, I'll do it somehow! You don't have to be so grumpy, you know!” Keeper slammed the phone on the cradle.
           Keeper had a smart phone, but bought the old-fashioned phone for grumpy old man conversations. So she could slam it.
           Sighing, keeper tied a fishing line to her other bunny slipper.
                                                                                   ***
           Tiki, the evil monkey, was savoring her hard-earned meal. Poor rabbit, but when it comes down to it in the jungle, it was really Tiki or the rabbit. She chewed, thinking of the sad realities of life, when her peripheral vision sent adrenaline to her limbs. Another rabbit! She thought about ignoring it, about not being a glutton, but the jungle requires preparation. She would need nourishment tomorrow too. What if the big cat came prowling? (We will ignore the fact that the 'big cat' was in the special corner of the bedroom, cowering and shaking. Thank goodness keeper wasn't really a cat person!)
           Tiki, carefully and with stealth, followed the poor hapless animal. Passing a muddy spot, she covered her face with the dark earth. She bared her teeth, keeping to the shrubbery. Patience, she told herself. Haste makes waste!
           Then leaves, green with summer and should still be on the trees, rained over a natural ridge in the land. Something snapped in evil monkey!
                                                                                   ***
           Grumpy old man had just dumped the bag of leaves (gotten off his trees at great expense! Well, work) over his back fence when he heard the familiar voice of evil monkey screaming, “They don't belong in a single pile! You're supposed to spread them around!”
           Well, his darned good deed was done. He rubbed his hands together, spreading the tree-sap, and walked back into his house. The Gong Show was on, for goodness sake!
                                                                                   ***
           The next morning, Tiki, the evil monkey, was stealthily working her way through the tree. You see, the evil monkey Jane Goodall needed to observe the great grumpy old ape. She took her spot on the fence, pulled out her notebook, and prepared to observe today's activities.
           “Whatcha lookin' at, ya dirty sock monkey?” grumpy old ape asked. Then he scratched his armpit and smelled his finger.
           Evil monkey took notes.

THE EVIL MONKEY JANE GOODALL, FAMOUS GRUMPY OLD APE OBSERVER, GETS SENT TO A SHRINK

           Tiki, the evil monkey currently calling herself Jane Goodall, sat in a comfortable fake-leather chair. It made a lot of noise as she settled in. “So,” evil monkey said, “you're a headshrinker.”
           “I'm a therapist,” the immaculately made up lady responded testily. Her brown hair had an eloquent touch of gray at the temples and was pulled into a severe bun. Her make-up made her high cheekbones look, well, severe. Her perfect pantsuit fit....
           The evil monkey Jane Goodall, who had kept her yellow legal notebook close, made an extraordinarily loud noise to reach over, grab it, open it past several pages of notes to a blank page, and asked, “Name, please?”
           The lady turned red under her makeup. “Skinner,” she answered.
           “First name please?”
           She harrumphed and looked away at a picture on her desk. Two people were barely distinguishable on a ski slope. She closed her eyes, answered, “B. O. Skinner.”
           This made evil monkey Jane Goodall harrumph.
           She sighed. “Bandito O. Skinner.” Monkey looked at her for several seconds, then lowered her head and wrote Bandito O. Skinner and under that, in a bullet pattern, severe.
           B. O. Skinner tried to peak at the page, but evil monkey Jane Goodall let her boneless arm obscure it from her. “Who's the guy?” Tiki asked as if talking about the weather, indicating the picture on the desk.
           “We aren't here about that guy,” B. O. answered testily. She took a deep breath, composing herself. “Why do you think you are Jane Goodall?”
           “Why do you think I am not?”
           “Well, Jane Goodall retired half way around the world from here--”
           “I'm Jane Goodall reincarnated!”
           “And she's still alive!” Dr. B. O. turned the computer screen so Tiki could see it. “She just posted on Facebook twenty minutes ago!” 
           Tiki could see the post. “Maybe a hacker?”
           “A hacker? A hacker!” B. O. Skinner was looking severe.
                                                                                   ****
           Grumpy old man found a magazine he liked (finally). He was looking for cartoons in 'The Weekly Reader' when he heard, “A hacker? A hacker!”
           Sigh. How well he knew; that monkey could drive even a professional crazy. Too bad Tiki's keeper was busy today, getting her hair or nails or some other lady essentials done today.
           He flipped through the magazine, looking for cartoons.
                                                                                   ****
           Tends to overreact to perfectly plausible explanations, evil monkey Jane Goodall wrote.
           Ms. Skinner breathed slowly, in control, into a brown paper bag. She watched the sock monkey, her client, make more notes. It's time I took control of this session, she thought, removing the bag from her mouth. “You are Tiki, a sock monkey.”
           “I've heard of her.”
           “You live with a keeper named,” B. O. checked some papers. “Odd. All it says here is fourth-grade teacher. You don't deny that you live with fourth-grade teacher?”
           “Got nothing against her. I've been taking interesting notes on her...”
           “But you don't deny this? And the old man that gave you a ride here? You do know him, right?”
           “Know him? I've got twenty pages of notes on him!” Evil monkey looked at her shoes, composing herself. “I remember Tiki. But, all my life it seems that I was misinformed. Like I didn't know what was going on.”
           “Well, you're a teenager. These feelings and emotions are perfectly normal.” B. O. cut her speech short, thinking, hurrah, we're finally making progress. She nodded encouragement.
           “So, one day I started taking notes. I began seeing grumpy old ape in a new light. Really fascinating stuff!”
           “Very healthy reaction. You are one smart monkey!”
           “And my name just happens to be Jane Goodall. I suppose it could be a coincidence...” Evil monkey Jane Goodall trailed off because, though the severe smile didn't flinch a bit, a sound came from deep in B. O.'s chest that lasted almost exactly ten seconds. Severe growling evil monkey Jane wrote.
                                                                                   ****
           Grumpy old man heard the growl. He checked his watch, nodded to himself, and wondered why he couldn't find cartoons in the Weekly Reader. He looked at the other magazines with a scowl.
                                                                                   ****
           The bag inflated, then deflated as she breathed in and out. B. O. Skinner watched the evil monkey taking notes and put the bag aside. “I know it's only our first visit, Tiki--”
           “Call me Jane.”
           “But would you be up to being hypnotized? I feel it would speed up the therapy and help you to understand yourself better.”
           The monkey took thought. “No, I wouldn't mind that, doc.”
           B. O. took out a shiny silver pen. “I want you to relax.” The doc almost dropped the pen as Tiki's arms went spaghetti noodle loose, but she persevered. “Just watch the pen and concentrate on breathing....in, now out. Good.”
                                                                                   ****
           Grumpy old man found a 1980's Mad Magazine under the couch and was just settling in when the screaming started. It stopped, he waited a breath, and it came again. Grumpy old man ran into the therapy room.
           The therapist pointed at the monkey, hand shaking. “Her button eyes! They...they just disappeared!”
           Grumpy old man looked. “Yes, it is, um, disquieting, ain't it?”
           “She wrote severe under my name several times!”
           “Yeah. She wrote 'possibly aquatic' under mine. I don't understand what it means myself. Say, did you hypnotize her?”
           “She insists that she's Jane Goodall!”
           “Well.” Grumpy old man inspected Tiki. He leaned down and said in her ear, “You are Tiki, the good evil monkey. You live with your keeper. You live here in Bozo, Idunno. You will wake up when I count to three. Oh, and until I get you back home, you are a chicken. One two three.”
           “Bwoock, bwock bwock.”
           “Much obliged, ma'am.”
           And with that, and letting Tiki peck on the floor a few seconds, they were off.
           B. O. Skinner is in therapy.