This is the part of the blog where I write about my day for those interested.
I didn’t feel I had time to celebrate the death of Aquaman with the monkey still living, so the weekend was spent designing a bullet apt for killing a monkey. The goal was for the bullet to fragment inside the monkey shredding its insides. The monkey would then vomit up its liquefied organs while I laugh and sip a martini.
As I was perfecting the round this morning and cleaning up the watermelons I was using as test subjects, the doorbell rang. “Someone is at the door for you!” SarahK shouted.
I hate having my genius interrupted. “Who?”
“Someone in a bat costume.”
“Man or woman?”
“Man.”
Batman! “I’m coming.” There Batman stood at our entryway with his tiresome grim expression. “When did you start using the doorbell?”
“I’ve been getting in trouble lately for no-knock raids. We need to talk.”
“I’m sure of it.” I stared at him a moment. “I’m used to meeting you in a dark alleyway where you can be a bit intimidating. In full light, though, you just look ridiculous. Your accessory belt really does bring out the color in your blouse, though.”
“That’s uncalled for. I get enough people trying to imply I’m gay with the whole Robin thing, so I don’t need…”
“I really don’t need the story of your life,” I interrupted. “What are you here for?”
“Aquaman has gone missing.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Did you try checking the ocean.”
“This is serious! He was a founding member of the Justice League! Also, there is evidence of foul play.”
But I covered my tracks! “What evidence?”
“A body was found floating in the harbor in Miami. From how bloated the corpse was, they thought he must have been dead for weeks. Then they realized it was Rosie O’Donnell and she’s still alive.”
“Is she talking?”
“Nothing sensible so far.”
I grinned. “That’s our Rosie. So, how long do you have to put up this pretense of an investigation?”
He was quiet a moment. “The others aren’t going to let this go.”
“And I don’t care. I need you influence in getting the moon nuked.”
“It will look suspicious to have another vote on that matter so soon after–”
I backhanded him. “Cowboy up, Batman, and nuke the moon! This is a matter of national security, and I don’t need pathetic excuses!”
He glared at me. “Fine, but one of these days it’s going to come down between you and me.”
“Whatever. Just move your gay little car before the home owners association complains about it being parked on the street.”
He stormed out and I slammed the door.
“Be careful if you fight him,” SarahK warned. “He looks sneaky.”
“I’m not scared of flying rodents or those who dress as them. I need to get back to working on my monkey killing bullet.”
“Maybe you should forget about that and work on other things. It’s just a monkey.”
Just a monkey! I stared at her. Something was up. “What did you do?”
“I made a pie!” She took a pie out of the oven. It was apple and an obvious omen of bad things to come.
I especially loved the part where you back handed him and told him to “Cowboy Up”! You are now my official all time numero-uno hero! At least until the little woman gets you by the sack and you start whimpering like a school-girl again–
Maybe I have missed something because I haven’t been reading this blog for long. But, if you want the moon nuked, why all the sneaking around with Batman?
Just ask Fred Thompson to glare at it for more than, say, 15 seconds and it will implode.
Just a thought.
//”Maybe you should forget about that and work on other things. It’s just a monkey.”//
WAIT WAIT HOLD UP…just last week Sarahk was DEMANDING you kill that monkey…now she wants you to just let it go?? I think you screwed up her brain with all that second amendment sex. Why else the pie, huh, HUH???
“The goal was for the bullet to fragment inside the monkey shredding its insides.”
Get some Black Talons, buddy. They’re illegal, but worth having. And you can expend them on more than just a monkey (think DNC)! Oh wait; they’re just a bunch of monkeys, too…
Monkey Pie! Monkey Pie!
ewww, I bet monkey pie would be gross. none for me please.
Hmm SarahK is acting strange, maybe replaced by an android. Throw some water on her and see if she shorts circuits. If she slaps you then you are ok.
Other than that you need a patsy to frame for the death of Aquaman. You seem to have Batman cowed so the rest aint that good at detectin’ you you should be good.
Uh oh! Run, Frank J, before the monkey pops out of the pie and eats your eyeballs!
Damnation, man.
Have you verified the species of this filthy little monkey?
Your work will reduced by half, if it turns out he’s of the “surrender monkey” sub-species.
Here’s what you need to do:
-Just place a photo of Gen Pelosi, next to the pie, and wait in the shadows, for no more then 2 hours.
-The little bastard will surely show up, and while he is furiously masterbating in proximity to the pie and photo, all you’ll have to do is to present yourself, with a grease rag wrapped about your head.
-He’ll tuck away his winky, and instantly recognize you as a dominant grease monkey (…a higher-order member of the surrender monkey family),
-With no more than 2 or 3 bitch slaps, he’ll submit to your dominance.
You’re home free! That filthy little surrender monkey will be yours to do with as you wish.
(if you can finagle a pair of Robin jammies, well, I think you know what to do next…)
you quit better quit being mean to my Batman!!! he will so kick your patooty!
I wouldn’t worry about the pie, its the “mystery meat” in the main course that might taste “gamey” though.
There is a time for pie, and a time for …. not pie. This is a not pie time.
what you must realize is monkeys have an affinity for tasers, simply lay one out with an empty cartridge in it, when the monkey retrieves it, blow the little fragger’s head off.