Monkey Barn Mythos (Part III)

First there was nothing.

Then God said, “Let there be Tobias the River Midget.”

And God saw what wondrous creature Tobias was, and she was pleased.

Oh, and somewhere in there was a Barn. A barn full of monkeys, a “Monkey Barn,” if you will.

That was my first draft I sent to Hyperion. That’s all I pretty much needed to say about the “so called “ “Monkey Barn Mythos,” and for the record, I wasn’t asked to detail my involvement with said Monkeys, said Mythos, or said Marn. (Which is how you would say “Barn” if you had a reverse-cold.)

I just naturally figured the readers would want to know the most important and interesting parts. That’s pretty much how I deal with the ladies: the most important and interesting parts. (And when I say “parts” I mean what is inside their pants. And when I say “pants” I’m also allowing for the possibility of a dress or skirt of some kind. Actually, I prefer my women this way, but I gotz no problems with the NOW gang, as long as those pants aren’t covering up six weeks worth of fur. Nasty. I mean, we all know that the more “Feminist” a woman is in public, the more willing she is to make up for it behind closed doors, if you know what I mean, and if you don’t know what I mean, good luck with that whole “life time of celibacy” thing.)

Anyscoots, I sent my Mythos thingy to Hyperion and he sent back this email.

Tobias,

Try again, numbnuts.

Hyperion

Further inquiries yielded suggestions that I pattern my story after the rest of my group, Sea Hag and Dragon. Originally we were all supposed to do our story together, but both chicks said we should do it as individual story segments. (I had to look the word “segment” up. Meant nothing like what I thought.)

I think the real reason they didn’t want to work directly with me is they were scrrrd they’d be overcome by my powerful animal magnetism, but hey: no use crying over dry panties.

So anyway, Anchoring Team Discovery Channel’s soon-to-be award-winning story, here is my “segment” of how I joined the Institute, and Monkey Barn.

THE MONKEY BARN MYTHOS (PART III)

I was down at the docks running my usual array of games: Three Card Monte, Craps, Marbles and the most dangerous of all: Jacks. A fellow can get hisself killed playing Jacks. Them Catholic girls are mean, and you don’t even want to imagine what can be hidden in the folds of a plaid jumper.

Anyscoots, I was running the games for a big time dealer, name of Marcellus Hapkido. No one called him that, though. They just called him “The Architect,” because if there was crime down by the waterfront, Marcellus had designed it. That man had more plans for mayhem than the Democrat Party.

Well, maybe I get carried away (no one’s that bad), but you know what I mean: Marcellus was heavy, man.

Marcellus had me running the games ‘cause I was smarter than the others. Well, that’s not entirely true. I mean, I was smarter than the others, but also, on account of being a River Midget, and not of, uh, large stature, Marcellus knew I could get along with everyone, wouldn’t be taken for a threat.

And….well, there were my parents.

Pa had a gambling jones he just couldn’t control, and got into Marcellus for some major scratch. I was working in order to pay off the debt, or at least keep Pa’s fingers from permanent mangle.

Well, one day I’m at the docks looking over my games when this really weird ship comes pulling into port. It was like nothing I ever saw: straight out of history, yo. This ship was like some sort of Spanish Armada shit; for realz. It was made all of wood and had cannons coming out the sides!

I know!

Everyone stops what they’re doing and looks at this ship. I mean, people who live and work down by the docks are jaded, you know, and nothing surprises them. Aliens could invade and we’d just ask if they wanted to roll a hard eight. But this ship…..

It just sits there in the harbor for like 30 minutes, doing nothing. Finally a gang-plank (at least, that’s what I think you call it) came sailing over the side and connected to the dock. A huuuuuuge man, even bigger than Marcellus, comes walking down. Behind him were two of the hottest women this side of a Romanian Brothel.

The dude had a long flowing read beard and a huge sword at his side, and was dressed colorful enough to hurt your eyes. The women were wearing…not much, but just enough to cover what you might pray to that big pink pixie in the sky they were not, you know what I mean?

By this time Marcellus had apparently seen all the bidness of the docks stop and came out to see why he wasn’t making any money. The crowd parted to let him through, and he stood there, facing the giant. Marcellus is a big man, but next to the stranger he looked almost normal.

For my part I went around quietly cutting purses and liberating wallets. After all, a crowd like this was an opportunity, and an opportunity missed brought you Marcellus’s foot up yo ass.

The stranger and Marcellus eye each other like two rival dogs in a junk-yard. Then without a word they moved to each other and embraced in a big ol’ hug. All around people gasped, maybe a little disappointed: we thought they was going to fight. The only thing the people of the docks liked better than a game was a fight.

After they done hugging the stranger says to Marcellus, is he ready?” I thought he might have been looking my way.

“Ready as he’ll ever be. I had to pretend to want to hurt his folks to get him to stick around where I could keep an eye on him, but he’s ready.”

By now even I knew they were talking ‘bout me, and my natural curiosity (which has been the cause of and solution to more of my problems than anything in life) got the better of me. I crept forward, continuing to cut purses by more by rote than anything, until I was at the front of the crowd.

The giant looked down at me and smiled. “Tobias, your destiny is with me. Let’s go, dude.”

I looked up at that huge ship and sort of gulped, but then curiosity got the better of me. I wonder what was in their cargo holds?

I wanted to say goodbye to my folks, but that wasn’t the River Midget way. We traveled with everything we owned (often having to flee at a moment’s notice), and with all my wallets and purses soon to be missing, it might be a good time at that to get away. As I walked up the gangplank I saw the flag for the first time. It was black with skull and cross bones. There was something just a little “off about the skull. It was too small to be human, but looked very much like a human. It was almost like a…..

“Welcome to the Barn” one of the women called out to me. “It’s sort of like the Ark, but with slightly less incest.”

I was sure I would love it here.