Back with the monkey bride and groom. Fortunately this time the bride wasn’t digging for fleas in my armpit. The loving couple only had eyes for each other.

Or, truthfully, eyes for the huge bunch of banana’s lying on the ground in front of them. What can I say, monkeys make horrible spouses.

“He’ll be here in a second,” Les said.

Then pasty face appeared, his list almost completely done. Signing off yet another task on the gargantuan list he blinked out of existance. He left a confused middle aged man who carried a plastic garbage bag before him like a shield.

The man looked at the monkeys.

“Clarence, Mildred?” He looked at me and Les.

“You’ve got your old job back,” I told him. “Clerical error, they didn’t mean to get rid of you in the first place.”

A big grin split his face. “Back home.”

“Uhm, do you mind if we have a couple of bananas though?”

I drove the highwarp time machine, sorry, chevy out of the lot, loaded down with bananas.

“You can’t win them all,” Les said.