“How do “we” do that?” “Don’t know. Never chased a monkey before.” “I have.” “Huh?” “Let’s just say I handled evidence that handled back.”
“You know how to catch monkeys?” “Sure. All I need is a tranquilizer syringe, a big butterfly net, a small harness and a bunch of bananas.”
“Here’s my plan. Distract Yorick with bananas, net him, tranquilize him, harness him and cage him.” “There are two problems with your plan.”
First, we don’t have those things.” “You don’t have bananas?” “Yes, we have no bananas. They’re grown for export.” “And the other problem?”
“Yorick has left the building.” Where monkey and skull had been only skull remains. Regi dashes to the exit. “Quick! We have to catch him!”
I shout “Have you ever caught a monkey?” “No!” She dashes out the door. When I get to the hallway neither Regi nor Yorick are in sight.
Regi has never tried to catch a monkey. Best to leave her to it. I once had a roommate who brought home a pet monkey and then went skiing.
The monkey escaped his cage and climbed atop our built-in bookshelf. I came home to find him tearing pages out of The Works of Shakespeare.
Disclosing no particular dramaturgical preference, he littered the room with folio fragments from comedies, tragedies and histories alike.
“You monkey, you,” I shook a finger at him “you give me back my book!” The monkey only shook his finger back at me and said, “Tsz Tsz Tsz.”
Angry, I shook both hands at him “You monkey, you! You give me back my book!” The monkey shook both hands back at me and said “Tsz Tsz Tsz.”
Now I felt quite angry. I stamped my foot “You monkey you! You give me back my book!” He stamped his foot back at me and said “Tsz Tsz Tsz.”
Now really very, very angry, I stamped both feet “You monkey, you! Give me back my book!” He stamped both feet back and said “Tsz Tsz Tsz.”
I became so angry I pulled off my cap, threw it down and began to walk away. The Shakespeare Folio came flying down and hit me in the head.
Then the monkey began tearing pages out of my first edition copy of Finnegans Wake. I figured it wouldn’t make any difference, so I let him.
I couldn’t just leave a monkey up there on my bookshelf. I didn’t like the way he was looking at me. Or at my other books, for that matter.
Donning a heavy coat, hat, gloves, boots and ski goggles for protection, I effected his capture. It was lucky there were no eyewitnesses.
Actually, it took a four hour chase ‘til he collapsed and I could drop a cage on him. Then I collapsed. From the cage he said “Tsz Tsz Tsz.”
As I lay drenched in sweat, I spotted a note from my roommate: “Here’s our new mascot! Not named yet. Don’t let him get out of the cage.”
My roommate’s note continued: “Hitting the slopes. Back Monday. Monkey chow in fridge. Have a great weekend!” The monkey said “Tsz Tsz Tsz.”
I didn’t know anything about keeping a monkey happy or more important, in his cage. I did know one thing for sure: I needed a new roommate.
(The Twitter Mystery continues daily at @Twitstery)