WA Wedding

Clang. Clang. The human makes me smash these miniature crash cymbals together. Laughing, clapping, eating, drinking these humans are so happy and fat. “What a cute little monkey” they cry in a patronizing tone “he can do tricks to!”. But I don’t mind, I have razor sharp teeth and Chichi the monkey can bite back. What a joyous occasion a wedding is, and yet I am forced to dance and do tricks. On the streets I wear the brown vest that master gives me but for this special occasion which master says will be “our big break” I wear a royal purple mini-monkey tuxedo. The dance to the music and enjoy this summer night on the coast of the Indian Ocean. The teary-eyed father dances with the bride, the children eat the cake and the elders sit in the chairs with champagne in their glasses and content smiles on their faces. Cheerful wedding music is blasted by the band. I jump into the routine for “Shout” by Tears for Fears and the men toss their lovers about but the children simply stare back at me, mesmerized.
I see an old man in a wheelchair, a white, majestic cake, a puppy (apparently the brides) and plenty of unsuspecting people. I also see opportunities. As I scan the room I devise a plan, a plan to turn it all upside down. Chichi has been a follower too long and now Chichi will rise up! I slowly drift farther from the middle of the stage toward the side where red drapes reach up to the ceiling. Click-Click go the drum sticks and the band launches into “Lets Get It Started” and I snap into action. I sprint full throttle to the drapes, climb up and jump off in a mosh-dive like fashion.
The world is now spinning past me and I land on the old man and grab him by the neck. My monkey hands are stronger than they think! The old man moans and pushes me off in the other direction. Cake is what I see. On all fours I cut through the crowd past peoples ankles, biting at random in the meantime. With ease I jump up on the table dive into the glorious, vanilla-iced wedding cake. Confusion. Children yelling and pointing, some crying, some laughing. I hear someone yell “Call the animal squad and take this freak out, QUICK”. The young men in the crowd try to get there hands on my but I evade them and grab huge chunks of cake and through them at bystanders. I save a piece for the old man sprint back to him and stuff it down his shirt. ARF ARF! The puppy is in hysterical and we share a mutual understanding as if he was yelling “Go get them!”. I hop on his back and cling to the rough of his neck. We ride through the dance hall like banditos bringing chaos to all. I see the bride in the corner with tears running down her face while the groom cowers a few feet away seemingly amused by this whole ordeal. This is the life!
I see a few men in padded jumpsuits with a net and a dart gun. This cant be good. I see him aiming it at me. As my steed and I rampage the night a dart hits my chest. Sharp pain… drowsiness… the world all melds together into a surrealist painting…. Losing body control….. darkness… complacency.