Always the Bad Guy

For a split second I tried talking to it, figuring it would release its grip. However, I realizing quickly it was trying to eat my finger as a kid would a chicken Mcnugget. So I wrapped my outstretched hand around it as you would grab a baseball and threw the little bastard as hard as I could. The five-pound creature hit a wall and bounced head first into a refrigerator where he slid to a stop.

Sammy being drunk, drugged, and therefore feeling no pain, quickly proceeded to shake it off. He flew at me and bit through my pants into my leg! In sheer desperation I reached for a pistol my friend kept in his desk drawer, knocking him off his chair in the process. As I ran to the front of the shop with a furious monkey attached firmly to my leg I fired my first shot. I was trying desperately to run, unattach the drunken simian from my leg, and not shoot myself in the foot, (not an easy feat.) Hearing the gun shot must have startled Sammy because he reluctantly released his grip. However, as I tried to quickly exit the premises he continued to chase me.

I ran for my life with Sammy directly above me jumping from hanging basket to hanging basket. I started indiscriminately shooting at him in an attempt to kill him as I cowardly ran for my life. In the few short feet to the door I managed to miss my target miserably but escaped without getting bit again. This must have been a sight to see. I was standing there bleeding, holding a gun in my hand, while Sammy tried his best to push the door open to finish me off. Now,  I was worried someone had heard the shots, so I threw the pistol in the sewer just as my friend stumbled out of the door. Sammy, now as calm as could be and sitting on his shoulder. My belligerent friend demanded to know why I stole his gun and just shot up his florist. Without uttering a single word, I left to drive myself to the hospital where I needed several stitches.

After I filled out the mountain of forms, the first question the emergency room doctor asked was how I got cut. I reluctantly told him I’d been attacked by a monkey. The doctor proceeded to ask several more questions. His last was if I was drinking. I shot him a look, letting him know if I still had a gun in my possession he was getting it.