Monkeyman, though tree-bound, had little problem following Finch’s flight through town. The orange markings on the little birds’ head made him easy to track across the sky. He dipped and dived, chirping occasionally for Monkeyman to follow. Finally he landed on a large sprawling tree overlooking a shopping mall. People walked up and down the sidewalk, sometimes passing beneath the tree as they went on their way.
“This is one of the cooler places in town,” Finch said as Monkeyman swung up. “I’m surprised none of my friends are here. ‘Chirp! This place is usually hopping.”
“So this is where your friends hang out?”
“Well, one of the places,” Finch said. “This is what we do for entertainment. Chirp!” Monkeyman looked around. He surveyed the tree but didn’t find it particularly entertaining. It was a nice tree but there was nothing special about it.
“Yeah,” Finch said, pointing to a knot in the trunk. Nested beneath the knot was a large pile of stones.
“What are those for?” Monkeyman asked. Finch cocked his head and gave him a weird bird sort of look.
“For throwing at people you fuck-face! What else do you think?”
“You throw them at people?”
“Don’t people get hurt?” Monkeyman asked looking down at the people passing below.
“Fuck no. They’re humans. Their skulls are harder than rocks.”
“Here,” Finch said, nudging a rocks towards him with his beak. “Give it a try.”
“Oh no, I really shouldn’t. This doesn’t seem like the correct thing to do…”
“C’mon ya pussy. Give it a try,” Finch said, pushing the rock closer. “The people love it. They don’t get rocks thrown at them very often so it’s sort of a novelty for them.”
Monkeyman picked up the rock. It was fairly heavy. A young boy was strolling up the sidewalk with his mom, intently looking into all of the shop windows.
“Go ahead,” Finch prodded. Monkeyman took aim at the adult and hurled the rock. It sang through the air, sailed over the adult’s head and dropped down squarely on the boys’ head. SMACK!
“Bullseye!” Finch shrieked. “Damn you’re good.”
The boy grabbed his head in pain and looked up just in time to see the monkey and bird edging back from the branch.
“MOM!!!!” the child screamed. He was really crying by now, rubbing a growing knot on his head. “A monkey threw a rock at me!”
“Oh nonsense Tommy,” the mother said examining the boys’ head. “You probably got hit by an acorn.”
“Mom, it WAS a monkey! I saw him. He hit me in the head with a rock,” he insisted. But she had already grabbed his hand and was dragging him down the sidewalk.
Finch was doubled over in laughter. He rolled around on the branch, his chest heaving. At one point he nearly fell off. Monkeyman stood up against the trunk trying not to be seen from the sidewalk.
“So.. heh, hah heh-heh. Chirp! Whatdaya think?, Finch asked finally.
“Well, it was… I don’t know. I guess it was sort of…” Monkeyman scratched his head looking for a word.
“It was FUN! Right?”
“Yes,” Monkeyman said. “I guess it was sort of fun.”
Soon he had another rock in his hand. This one sailed through the air and caught a housewife right between the eyes. “OOF!!” Finch nudged one off the branch and it hit a guy on crutches. “CRACK!!” More rocks sailed through the air and found their targets: a little girl skipping down the street “BAMM!”, a football player “SMACK!”, a man on a bike “BAP!!”…
They both laughed and laughed and laughed. Monkeyman couldn’t remember the last time he had had this much fun.
People looked and looked, scanning the sky and the trees. Some of them pretended it didn’t happen. Some of them cried out in pain. Other’s shrugged, looked around to see if anyone else had seen the rock thrown, and then went about their business.
Monkeyman and Finch fell down on the branches holding their stomachs, tears streaming from their eyes.
“See what I mean?” Finch asked. “Hurting people is really a lot of fun. Bruises, cuts and concussions go away. But laughs last you forever.”
“Heh heh hah.. yeah, I have to agree,” Monkeyman said, holding his stomach.
[ Next ]