The Monkey Says Get Me Another Banana Daquiri
Mrs. Manion and I decided to go out on the town this weekend. It was Mrs. Manion's birthday. We went to the Oak Bar in the Copley Hotel. It's a great place. Very old school Boston, with cigars, martinis and lots of dark oak woodwork. Very elegant.
Against Mrs. Manion's wishes, I brought the monkey puppet. He's been getting lonely. I would bring him to work, but unfortunately my employers have threatened to have both of us arrested if the monkey puppet ever shows up again. It wouldn't bother me that much, but under the "three strikes" law, the monkey would be subject to some serious jail time.
I was drinking Grey Goose Martinis, up with extra olives. Mrs. Manion was drinking Sloe Gin Fizzes. Very Gatsby. Just one of the many things I love about Mrs. Manion.
The monkey puppet was pounding banana daquiris and chain smoking Montechristos. The monkey puppet loves a fine cigar. For a while, things went well. Unfortunately, the monkey puppet had a little too much to drink, and started getting a little sloppy.
Some frat boys at a neighboring table started making fun of the monkey puppet.
"What's a matter there buddy? Can't hold your liquor?"
The monkey puppet oozed across the floor and stared at the biggest fratboy. The dead plastic stare of the monkey puppet is very disconcerting. Then, with lightning teamwork, the monkey puppet latched onto the frat boy's face as I punched him repeatedly in the groin.
Before the frat boys could react, we bolted from the bar, escaped out the bathroom window, and hitched a ride home with a convertable full of lingerie models. The monkey puppet is all about style.
Mrs. Manion had this to say about the incident: "I begged him not to bring the puppet. I swear that thing's posessed. And what adult walks around with a freaking monkey puppet? We're having a nice evening out, and suddenly he's sucker punching some 12 year old, and running from the bar screeching Eeek! Eeek! at the top of his lungs. I just hope the cops find him before I do."
Against Mrs. Manion's wishes, I brought the monkey puppet. He's been getting lonely. I would bring him to work, but unfortunately my employers have threatened to have both of us arrested if the monkey puppet ever shows up again. It wouldn't bother me that much, but under the "three strikes" law, the monkey would be subject to some serious jail time.
I was drinking Grey Goose Martinis, up with extra olives. Mrs. Manion was drinking Sloe Gin Fizzes. Very Gatsby. Just one of the many things I love about Mrs. Manion.
The monkey puppet was pounding banana daquiris and chain smoking Montechristos. The monkey puppet loves a fine cigar. For a while, things went well. Unfortunately, the monkey puppet had a little too much to drink, and started getting a little sloppy.
Some frat boys at a neighboring table started making fun of the monkey puppet.
"What's a matter there buddy? Can't hold your liquor?"
The monkey puppet oozed across the floor and stared at the biggest fratboy. The dead plastic stare of the monkey puppet is very disconcerting. Then, with lightning teamwork, the monkey puppet latched onto the frat boy's face as I punched him repeatedly in the groin.
Before the frat boys could react, we bolted from the bar, escaped out the bathroom window, and hitched a ride home with a convertable full of lingerie models. The monkey puppet is all about style.
Mrs. Manion had this to say about the incident: "I begged him not to bring the puppet. I swear that thing's posessed. And what adult walks around with a freaking monkey puppet? We're having a nice evening out, and suddenly he's sucker punching some 12 year old, and running from the bar screeching Eeek! Eeek! at the top of his lungs. I just hope the cops find him before I do."
posted by Lance Manion at 10:04 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home