Monkey Barn Mythos - Part V

We come to the next installment of the Monkey Barn Mythos, and there is some question as to this one's authenticity. Team Deez Nutz was responsible for this, and they consisted of Lady Jane Scarlett, Biff Spiffy, Koz and Rennratt.

When the final product was turned in, it seemed to have been done so by just one person. (Except for a picture, which was rejected for final publication, because it violated the tastes and standards the Barn has, such as they are.) Always a fan of giving credit where it was due, I asked the person who turned in the final product if he/she would like to be solely credited, and he/she told me that he/she would prefer if I credited everyone but him/her, as she was less than thrilled with the final product.

Jeesh.

I'll let them sort it out in the comments. For now, here is the

MONKEY BARN MYTHOS (PART V)

Stimpy was always the stupid one, or so I used to think. No half-witted cat would eat litter even if it IS Gritty Kitty. So it was only a matter of time before the allure of the shiny red button captured Stimpy’s imagination. I tried to stop him, I promise. I even wore that stupid hat, and even took him to outer space. But to no avail.

Doesn’t that idiot cat almost look gleeful in those last moments, before he caused the utter destruction of the universe? If only Stimpy had not pushed the red button, I would have never appreciated his mad genius. In those first moments after the button was pushed we were nothing but waves. We were…transmissions in need of a home.

The first days AB (after button), we tried to find a suitable home for our demented thoughts. Hauntings, possessions, and mean tricks during Ouija board parties only sealed our fate. Were we forever doomed? We had one last resort. Canada.

There we found a vessel worthy of our strange brand of existentialism and shared our love of powdered toast with a side of beef jerky.

He was…brilliant. But He needed to loosen up a bit. He was a bit too much like Orson Welles but not enough like Kevin Smith. We found Him here, at this boring, stressed out, type A kind of office.

It’s kind of quaint in a Ted Kaczynski sort of way. Clearly, the Man needed some fun. So, we started hanging out and talking to Him. And He started talking back, even though He was the only one to see us at first. But then our ideas became His and He started to laugh a bit and think like us a bit more. One time I found Him in his purple boxer briefs singing “happy happy joy joy”. After we had seen that Powdered Toast Man had started his own blog, He knew that there was an audience for our zany wackiness.