Indie Bloggers 300 words regarding:
To be mean, you shave your neighbor’s monkey. It gets a cold and dies. You get arrested for animal abuse and go to prison for three years. On your first day in jail, as you walk into general assembly, the crowd goes completely silent. They part like a wave revealing a shrunken old man who radiates a merciless, palpable evil. He looks at you and says “Finally.”
I killed the last monkey. The owners had tried to hide it as an exotic pet, monkeys had been outlawed. But I was the best monkey slayer. I tracked down that screeching shrunken hideous creature and disposed of it. Well, I shaved it first. You have to make sure it’s not just some really ugly, really small human or alien. All that genetic research has left us with some really whacked out human-like creatures.
I was sent to jail. It was a formality for killing a pet. Technically it was an animal still, the laws had not been changed yet. I was set to serve three years but the laws were all going to be rewritten the next day so I’d be out by the end of the week. I was looking forward to spending all that reward money.
I walked into prison, a crowd gave me silent homage as the last great monkey slayer. I nodded at their show of respect.
“Finally… someone got rid of that damned monkey. Bless you, now I’m free!” The old man hissed. He sunk down into the floor almost seeming to be sucked through it. His eyes rolled back in his head and he just, vanished. Melodramatic.
I kind of laughed. “Well, at least he didn’t make a mess.” Everybody snickered then. After all, he was a mean old evil minion of monkey.
We had the party then. It was deluxe. Darwin’s books were burned on gigantic bonfires. I did find one monkey hair on the pizza but I just kept it as good luck.
Best of all, we had finally won the war against the monkeys. Now, no one could deny man did not come from apes!
The next day the cult of the chicken began.