The Tail of the Pink Monkey

A few weeks ago I got a box of monkeys from my Grammie. Ok, monkeys and apes (for my onkel eric who like to keep his monkey distinct from his apes). Meet the simian who has risen above the rest, the Pink Monkey.


The Pink Monkey has seen better days. He is missing his tail, an eye, an arm, and his belly button.

Who is responsible for this carnage? Could these hooligans be involved?

The Oscar Bean, Super Teen disagrees vigorously:

So vigorously, indeed, that if he had any brain they would be scrambled like an egg. No, here is the truth. The Pink Monkey is a victim of brotherly love. Ordinarily I do not share my stuffies. Indeed, I prefer to disembowel alone, and I maintain my solitary stuffitude with great vigilance with what the ma ape calls "first class bastardy." Namely, I show my teeth and give a growl worthy of a tiger.


But I let my baby brudder play tug with me over the Pink Monkey.

And thus I contemplate the power of the pink monkey, able to bring together two brothers in a bond over ripping a stuffy limb from limb. Could we have discovered the secret to world peace? Or just good way to spend a Saturday morning?

Behold, the pink monkey.