Noah Bennet faces off against a legion of Monkeyboys....
"Okay....one question. What's a monkeyboy?" I asked. Now, I've read Next by Michael Crichton. Being that my previous job had lots to do with evolution and genetics, it was required reading, as are all his books. And in it, there is a monkey with human DNA. The result is basically a normal boy, but with more hair and poo-slinging capabilities.
Jon answered my question, "Basically they're like normal boys, but with more hair and poo-slinging capabilities."
Crap! It was just as I had feared!
There was a machine that had to be stopped. I could spend all day shooting monkeyboys, and while that would bring immense joy, it wouldn't win the challenge. Plus, I'm supposed to be a good guy now (I'm trying hard, I really am!), so murder shouldn't always be the answer.
"Save the Cheerleader!" I yelled at my team. Unforunately, they did not shout back "Save the World!" as we had rehearsed. Rather, they broke out in a sad attempt to stop the monkeyboy replication invasion.
My first plan of action was to call up Hana Gitelman, but it turned out she killed herself trying to take out the tracking system. Not exactly how I would have done things, but oh, well. She got the job done.
But that left me goonless! Ted was recently deskullified and Matt is in the hospital. The worst time to be middle management, when all the laborers are out sick (or dead).
Luckily, I had one last ream of paper left. I had been saving it for a special occasion, as I knew my supply, while comically supple, was limited. This last ream would have to get me through the rest of this competition.
I took out a sheet of paper, and decided to negotiate with the monkeyboy leader. It seemed I could coerce him into pushing the button on the machine.
I wrote on the paper, "Mr. Monkeyboy leader, please stop this mindless marauder of mutated monkeyboys."
Quickly, and dexterously, I folded it into an airplane and sent it to the monkeyboy leader. After a few moments, it returned.
"Me not monkeyboy. Me Monkeyman!"
By golly! I was dealing with a creature not unlike Ted. Negotiating this deal should be so easy, even a Geico customer could do it!
"My appologies. Mr. Monkeyman, what would it take to get you to turn the machine off today?"
I looked over at Gyrobo scribbling on my paper about nose tip-detaching robots. "Hey, get away from there you....thing. That's the last ream of paper I have!"
"Miraculous cheese biscuits!" he replied and buzzed off.
Finally, the paper airplane returned with Monkeyman's reply. "Me have three demands. Me want the following listed items: Bananas, More Bananas and a toilet so that us no longer have to resort to poo-flinging, as it makes us seem rather unsophisticated."
Hmm....bananas were easy. I mean, this is an island. Those things growing on those trees must be space bananas. But more bananas would be a little harder, though still doable....like Cher.
But where would I get a toilet? The ones that I know of are all securely fastened to the floor.
And then I saw it. A chair, floating all by its lonesome. Nothing to fasten it securely to a floor. I quickly tossed out the old guy and cut a hole in the seat.
"There!" I said proudly.
Monkeyman was impressed. He enjoyed his toilet very much. Because of the hovering, he was able to fly over wherever he'd like to deposit his poo. No more studying trajectories or getting out his protractor. No, he could easily get his poo where he needed it to be. And to show his gratitude, he pushed the button on the replication machine and stopped the annoying monkeyboys from being such a nuisance.
"Great job, guys," Jon said afterwards. "Now to announce the....hey, where's Charles?"