Some ideas sound really great when you first discuss them with your drunken buddies, but they end up being terrible ideas. Don't get me wrong, I rarely if ever sit around with a group of drunken buddies espousing ridiculous plots to get rich or be happy and fulfilled. In this story, however, I'm pretending that my life is like a sitcom or an animated comedy ensemble series geared toward adults but watched primarily by slacker high school and college guys on 'shrooms. Just go with me.
One idea that sounded great but ended up being a terrible fiasco was my plan to assemble and train an army of flying monkey soldiers like the one the witch had on The Wizard of Oz. First of all, every place I called insisted that there were no such animals as flying monkeys. I'm not sure if this was a government coverup or what, but these people were relentless in their denial. Once it became clear that I was not going to break through the wall of secrecy surrounding the flying monkey market, I reached the obvious conclusion: I was going to have to breed my own flying monkeys.
Oh, man. That was a nightmare. I'm not a genetic mad scientist or anything, so I decided I'd have to do this the old-fashioned way. I managed to get my hands on a retiring makeup lab chimpanzee and a Peregrine falcon. Both males. Oops. So, I sold that chimp to McDonalds and, after several unsuccessful attempts to purchase a female chimp, ended up stealing one from the local Mexican circus at the bazaar near downtown. I thought that the rest would be easy street, but I was very wrong. If just one of them had been into the idea, I might have been able to get them together. They were not, however, and that's an understatement. I got scratched all to hell and beaten about the head and shoulders numerous times before I gave up. In hindsight, I think the falcon may have had some sort of erectile dysfunction. I was so frustrated by the end that I donated both animals to Taco Bell's Meat Research Labs. Breeding was not going to happen.
At that point I came to two conclusions. First of all, I realized that my monkey army was not going to be able to fly. This was a huge disappointment, but I came to terms with it. Secondly, I realized that chimpanzees, although about the right size for my envisioned army, were far too strong and hard to acquire to be the basis for my army. So, I did what anyone would do in that situation: I ordered two hundred Capuchin monkeys.
While waiting for them to arrive, I started sewing their outfits. I had a really elaborate uniform in mind, like something Michael Jackson would wear, but my sewing skills are limited. The uniforms ended up looking like bright red pillow cases with arm holes, a head hole and a belt around the "waist". After a week, I had twenty three of these outfits completed, far short of the two hundred I needed. I never got any more assembled, however, because the monkeys arrived at that point.
You know, you may think that you know what two hundred Capuchin monkeys would be like. You may imagine that you've made preparations and that you're ready for them. You may think, "It will be difficult until they complete basic training, but I'll be able to handle it." You may think all of these things, but you're wrong. Trust me. Oh my god, are you wrong.
Two days later I just left that house. I locked them all inside and left. I never went back. After a couple of days, I started to feel guilty, so I placed an anonymous call to the SPCA and told them where they could go to rescue the monkeys. As I suspected, they put out a warrant for my arrest. I took the little remaining money I had and disappeared. They still have secret flying monkey SPCA commandos looking for me today, I'm sure, but they've not found me yet.
P.S. - I posted a piece on my cogito writing site. It's called Renters. Check it out, if you'd like. Thanks for stopping by.
