Bloody Monkeys

What is going on... here I am waking up again...

Last thing I remember is that fool with he horny helmet rocketing past me screaming like a little girl. Now I find myself leaning against the Very Bad Thing at the edge of the village. The same Very Bad Thing that cored Skook like an apple before hurling the hollow remains off the edge of the cliff.

And whats this... The Precious is red... no wait... it's red a dripping... the red is blood. Oh... I see I'm covered in blood. All around me are the bloodied remains of there are giblets swinging from trees like wind chimes. Well... bloody... wet ... floppy wind chimes.. . that don't chime. They just kinds slap together wetly. And drip.

Arms... Legs.. heads... various odds and ends... lay all around me... a veritable sea of dead monkey men. I sense others watching me fearfully from the darker corners of the village. Apparently they fear coming out now.

Wait... whats that... I thought I could hear a voice... a weasely.. hollow sound... "aww maate... not nice maaaate"... no wait... must be the wind.

As I comb my bloodslick hair into place I ponder why I would have gone on such a rampage. I guess the evil monkeys must have tried to take the Precious away... so that kinda justifies mass murder. The Precious provides me with a hot black drink that gives me energy and goodness. As I sip it, flicking unidenified sticky bits of monkey off the cup and admirning my gaunt features in my mirror I decide to head back into the jungle and try to launch the boat myself. The precious will show me the way now. I can't spend my days looking for a freak who keeps gerbils locked in a cage on his boat with his Horny Helmets and Gimp Suits. It could take forever to find someone that odd.