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> Tangent #65: Stupid Monkey
So anyway, I was walking through the forest yesterday. It was cold ofcourse, what it being closer to winter than I really want it to be. Anyway, I stopped halfway through my brisk jog, trying to catch my breath. I bent over, trying to stretch and that is when I heard the twill of a small flute. How odd, I thought to myself, who would be playing a musical instrument out here in the middle of the forest.

I slowly crept through the trees and brush, following the flow of musical note and pristine tone. Finally, I stumbled into a small clearing. The snow glistened pure white and sparkled from the far away sun's cold shine.

I looked and saw a small monkey holding a paperclip dancing in the middle the clearing. I laughed and pointed. "What a silly monkey." I giggled. For really I had never seen something so odd in the middle of a clearing on an almost winter day.

This little titter must have startled him, because he leapt up offkilter and tumbled to ground suddenly EXPLODING with a large bang. "Oh my SWEET GOD!!!", I screamed. That is horrible.

I wondered what had just happend to him. Looking down, I saw that the entire field contained small lumps underneath the snow. I picked up a large pumpkin that was painted green lying at my feet and threw it at one of them. Sure enough it exploded. Yup, the monkey was dancing amongst a mine field. What a stupid monkey. I hate him now. All he thought about was his damned paperclip and let everything else, including his own safety, slip away.

I heard the flute again. Oh yes, I have to find out where this is coming from. I treaded through the clearing and.... OOOOPS. I forgot about the minefield, what with me thinking about the stupid monkey and all. I blew off one of my legs. DAMN IT. Now I REALLY hate that monkey.

So, I hopped off on my one good leg and found myself looking over a small hill, down into a frozen river. Sure enough, there was the source of that heavenly sound. Frozen solid half in the water was a dead Parisian man. His forehead was riddled with little holes that looked about the size of a paperclip puncture. The wind whistled through his now immobile skull causing it to play the most lovely tunes I ever heard.

I then vomitted all over myself.

God, how I hate that monkey.

The previous story was found in an old archive of experimental radical freeform story creation that somehow leaked out of me leetle brain many moon ago. After reading it again, it touched me so much that I KNEW I must post this for the world to read. Much like a Rorschack Test, the true meaning of the story lies within your own personal interpretation. Go to it with an open heart and an open HATE for that DAMN STUPID MONKEY.