The pet shop was selling them for five pence each. I thought that this was odd since they normally a couple of thousand. I decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth so I bought 200 of them. I like monkeys

I took my 200 monkeys home. I have a big car. I let one of them drive. His name was Sigmund. He was retarded. In fact, none of them were really bright. They kept punching themselves in the genitals. I laughed. They punched me in the genitals. I stopped laughing.

I herded them into my room. They didn't adapt well to their new environment. They would screech and hurl themselves off the couch at high speeds and slam into the wall. Although humorous at first, the spectacle lost it's novelty halfway though its third hour.

Two hours later I found out why all the monkeys were so cheap; they all died. No apparent reason. They all just sort of dropped dead. Kinda like when you win a goldfish and it dies six hours later. God damn cheap monkeys.

I didn't know what to do. There were 200 dead monkeys lying all over my room; on the bed, in my wardrobe, hanging from my bookcase. It looked like I had 200 throw rugs. I tried to flush one down the toilet. It didn't work. It got stuck. Then I had one dead, wet monkey and one hundred ninety-nine dead, dry monkeys.

I tried to pretend they were just stuffed animals. That worked for a while, that is until they began to smell real bad.

I had to pee but there was a dead monkey in my toilet and I didn't want to call a plumber. I was embarrassed.

I tried to slow down the decomposition by freezing them. Unfortunately there was only enough room for two at a time. I had to change them around every 30 seconds. I also had to eat all the food in the freezer so it didn't go bad.

I tried to burn them. But little did I know that my bed was flammable. I had to extinguish the fire.

Then I had one dead, wet monkey in my toilet, two dead, frozen monkeys in my freezer, and one hundred ninety-seven dead, charred monkeys in a pile on my bed. The odour want improving.

I became agitated my inability to dispose of the dead monkeys and I really had to use the bathroom. So I went and beat one of the monkeys. I felt better.

I tried throwing them away but the bin man told me he was not allowed to dispose of charred primates. I told him that I had a wet one. He couldn't take it either. I didn't bother asking about the frozen ones.

I finally arrived at a solution. I gave them out as Christmas gifts. My friends didn't quite know what to say. They pretended to like them. But I could tell that they were lying. Ingrates. So I punched them In the genitals.

I like monkeys.