Mr. Bonkers and me

I've always wanted a pet monkey. Well, technically not a monkey...an ape (chimpanzee to be specific). When people hear this they are quick to point out the monkeys are feral, filthy creatures who can often be quite mean and even fling their own poo. "Very well," I say to these detractors. I do, in fact, concur that in practice, my pet ambitions might not be so wonderful. But, let's be honest...I will never own a pet chimp, so allow me to revel in my dream.

This chimp of mine would follow me anywhere, and we would always hold hands. Preferably, Mr. Bonkers would wear at least a diaper, though a lime green pants suit with a madras blazer would be most desirable. Mr. Bonkers would sit next to me at work and doodle with sharpies. Whenever my boss comes in to tell me something, Mr. B would put on a fake smile and enthusiastically nod his head. Then, when bossman left, Mr. B would flub his lips and spit, then laugh a hearty apetastic laugh as we high-fived Top Gun style. Mr. Bonkers would also definitely hurl poo at the people in media. As the angry, poo-laden media people stormed over to my office, Mr. B would jump into my arms and act really scared. "He's just a silly monkey," I would say. But, as we would both know...that's ridiculous because chimpanzees are great apes, not monkeys.