The night was frightening, when a Seal exploded out of the water, connected a series of roundhouse kicks, knocking Max back into the jagged rock cliff.

“The chance isn’t yours, human,” the seal said with wicked teeth and a swastika tattoo on his forehead.
“Where is it,” Max shouted, fighting through exhaustion.
“Oh, my dear human, the jewel is safe, of course.”

Max grabbed the railing and pulled himself up. The seal smiled and grunted. It started raining, and the lightening exploded the sky light a desk lamp. Max charged and the Seal stood on his tail, both flippers encouraging him to come closer. With his speed slowed by fatigue, Max’s arm went wild and erratic, trying to punch the seal in the face. The seal jumped, twisted at its torso and connected its tail into the man’s face.

The impact threw Max backwards, over the railing and into a monkey wedding.

Cho-cho and Chilka were once high school sweethearts when Cho-Cho left for the war in Iraq. He returned three years later, a changed man. Once the cocky monkey turned into a responsible chimp, asking Chilka to marry him. The Shotgun Wedding (haheha) ran flawless when Cho-Cho noticed an afternoon moon two shades darker than normal, and not where it should be.

“Do you see that, Chilka,” Cho-Cho pointed to the sky.
“What, the moon? What about it?”
“The weather man said it was supposed to be positioned three degrees to the right at this time of day.”
“Why does it matter,” Chilka asked.
“Because if the moon is out of alignment, the world ends. It’s in the Monkey See Monkey Do of Ape prophesy.”
“Why do you read that crap, Cho-Cho? It just fills your mind with useless ramblings.”

Cho-Cho lowered his head. In truth, Chilka was right. And even if the Ape prophesy were right, it’s not like he could do much about it.

Chilka put her monkey fingers under Cho-Cho’s mane and looked deep into his eyes. “Now kiss me you monkey fool.”

Cho-Cho kissed her, deep long and hard.

Max was shocked at the display. How can they kiss before they say their vows, he thought. Whatever.

Still, Max had to find a way back up to face the Seal. It had beaten him on every turn, and time was running short. The world could end if the Jewel isn’t returned to the Cave of Destiny. The Earth will shatter, like a paper feeding through a shredder.

As he walked through the Path of Patience, through the Corridor of Confusion, Max stopped when he heard a question posed to him by a fellow in the tree. “Hey, man. You want some?”
“What some, what?”
“You know, stuff.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Max said.
“You seem a little, you know, tense. I have some stuff that could, you know, help you chill a bit.”
“You have the Gem of Grotenburg?!”
“What the fu…” “Yea, I got that, just $25 for a dime.”
“A dime, what… are you selling drugs,” Max said totally appalled.
“Sheeeeeeeeeeeet, na man. I’m a doctor-man, I’m Dr. Feelgood.”
“I don’t have time for this, the world is going to end,” Max protested.
“Even more reason. Look, I’ll give you a discount. Give me twenty bones, and it’s yours.”

Max made the purchase, shot up and moved through double-doors at the cliff side. Heavy as they were, they closed silently.

Pink tapestries gently beat against the stone walls, with candles flanking the path. Emerged a short homosapien wearing a pink silk robe with Ricky Martin singing in the background (like physically there).

“Swack, swack, shoo, shoo, leave me beautiful home right now, Mr. bad man who invades my beautiful palace.” To say that the monkey didn’t speak gay would be a lie. Like, the biggest lie ever.

“I have to find the Jewel of Nocromana, the Gem of Grotenburg and…”
“Shut… up. Get out of my home,” the homosapien said, flipping his hand at the wrist. “Oh, Ricky baby. Yea, now you’re going to get it. My Ricky was a black belt. He’ll beat you out of my beautiful home.”

“Yea, fluffy homosapien,” Ricky Martin appeared wearing leather chaps and a shirt that read, “Flamer”.
“This man barged into our beautiful home and won’t leave. Make him go.”
“All right man, you had your fun, now leave our…”

Suddenly Ricky Martin started yelling, “SHE BANGS, SHE BANGS.” Horns jetted through his head, his teeth began falling out. The warts on his skin opened like a spring flower, and started popping like bubble wrap. “Tyrrl Jullomi Hggrantia,” Ricky Martin said before his head exploded, spilling blood all over the walls and the beautiful tapatries.

“What the fuck was that,” Max asked.

The homosapien went hysterically mad, curled up in a corner into a crying fit and shouted, “GET OUT.”
“Aye-eat,” Max said, walking over the headless corpse and stepping outside on the other side.

“No, dude, seriously. I ran through the pit. Man, the pigs were pissed off. But we ate one, so it’s cool. All in all a good day, my brother,” one Panda said to the other.
“All right man, you ready. I’ll take one end of the pipe, you the other. I’ll light it up!”

Both Pandas started giggling.

“Excuse me,” Max said, freaking both Pandas totally out.

“Dude, don’t sneak up on like this.”
“Yea, man, we know Kung Fu.”
“Where can I see the Elder of Yummi Tummi,” Max asked.
“Dude, he’s over there,” one Panda pointed with an oven mit on his hand.
“Thanks.”

After Max left one Panda asked the other, “Who was that, dude?”
“I think it was Ricky Martin, man.”
“No shit?”
“No shit.”
“Ricky Martin sucks.”
“No doubt.”

The Pandas giggled for more than five minutes.

The End.

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