GUNPOWDER MONKEY

MUST BE READ USING AN IRISH/SCOTTISH ACCENT AND A DASH OF AUSTRALIAN: Sitting in a bar, minding me own business, I overhear an old guy says he is looking for animals to take on a boat for a 40 day/39 night cruise. The boat leaves first light, the old guys scratchy words carry on, all expenses paid. Couples only for each animal, the old man speaks as though only half of his mouth is opening. I guess breaking up with my long time vine swinging girlfriend was ill advised a few weeks before. So I show up the next morning, and the old man points to a couple of chimps, a couple of real vine yankers making chimp chump noise and trying to sniff their booty hole finger. Really mate, them? The old man looks at me and anyways, we don't allow guns on the boat, and you look a little intimidating. I look at the old guy through my one good eye, "look mate, I know I look a little scary with my patch, and my guns may make you a little uncomfortable, but if you start running out of food, and them tigers or lions start to get hungry, you're gonna wish you had reconsidered not taking along a Gunpowder Monkey." The old guy thought for a few minutes, then turned around and walked away. As the boat sailed away, I looked out and gave a nod to the chimp, standing on the beach, thrown overboard by the old man. Everyone needs at least one Gunpowder Monkey. Are you a Gunpowder Monkey?