greetings from the left coast

"I'm not real, you know."

"Not real? You're sitting right in front of me."

"No, sadly you are mistaken."

...tap pencil. tap. "Hmmm...?"

"None of this is real. I'm a monkey for crissakes."

Extra! Extra! Extra!!

"A... monkey."

"Yes." Sigh.

"I see a healthy teenage girl."

"No, sir, Mr. Doctor. I'm a monkey."

"A monkey."

Nod.

---- Sigh.

"I'll prove it..."

...tap pencil. tap. "Hmmm...?"

Peeling the doctor's rind down isn't hard. It's what monkeys do.

He screams a lot.

"Just a second, doctor." Gulp, swallow.

His legs dangle in the air.

"JUST A SECOND, DOCTOR!" Chewchewchew........

She tosses his large, yellow peel into the too-small wastebasket in his office.

"I told you. You taste like banana."


(they all taste like banana. Poor C-ko-chan. Another banana-flavored human.)


[You have to keep trying till one crunches.]