“The monkeys told me I’d find you here,” I told the little girl as she sat on the street corner, crying.
“The monkeys don’t talk to anybody but me,” she said wiping away the tears, “how could they have told you where I was?”
“They’ll talk to anybody if they get desperate enough.” Indeed, the monkeys did tell me where she would be, much to the shock of the zookeeper who had frightened her away scaring the monkeys. They had voices the sounded very British.
“Would you come back to the zoo and let the zookooper apologize to you?” I asked the girl.
“Okay as long as I get to talk to the monkeys some more.” Said the girl with a sudden smile on her face.
“I’m sure the people who study monkeys would love to watch you talk to them.”
When we arrived at the zoo, we discovered a scene of total chaos. I stopped somebody and asked them what was going on.
“Somebody left the door open to the monkey house. The monkeys have all escaped!”
I swore as I saw a literal fleet of animal control vehicles drive into the city.