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Monkeyman combed his hair while gazing into the mirror. He was having difficulty determining whether he should part his hair to the left or right. Perhaps a middle part? He wasn't sure that was fashionable anymore.

These are the mundane, unglamorous thoughts of Monkeyman, dear Reader. He who has been unjustly blamed for spreading horror throughout the subcontinent. Surely this hysteria cannot be blamed on his existence alone.

He took no comfort in the plight of other mysterious creatures, for he did not believe in Bigfoot or Chupacabra, his alleged hairy brethren. Nor did the more sympathetic portraits of him circulating among the town, WANTED posters depicting him in a slim-fitting nehru jacket of decent quality, mollify.

As Monkeyman returned to the duvet, a small tranquilizer dart shot from a blowgun passed silently underneath the sill of a barely opened window (a happenstance that would have been impossible only days before, when Monkeyman still exhibited his trademark caution by sealing all potential passageways at all times), striking him square in the ass.

Date Written: November 18, 2004
Author: Turgid
Average Vote: 3

11/25/2004 Litcube: Hrm.
11/29/2004 anonymous: It's a shame this short was ignored due to the holidays.
11/29/2004 anonymous: It's also a shame this short is so bad.
11/29/2004 anonymous: Hey!
11/30/2004 anonymous: No one cares about (m)animals.
11/30/2004 TREE: Perhaps if he had been sleeping with el chupacabra there would have been a bit more attention.
11/30/2004 TREE (3): I just re read this. Maybe it is a good thing there was so little attention paid to it.