You think my last one was crazy? Wait till you meet the monkey.

Yeah, well, the debut about some guy named Rick (see my last post) was maybe of an absurdity which I gotta work hard to create again, (I will!) - but it certainly can get a lot crazier. I had written that last story like maybe two months ago, creating my character Rick. I'm writing this evening about how I like him, because he is a real


[EVERYDAY-HERO]

That. Rick... You know him, not? He's the guy sitting in the bathtub, saying it's raining shit. He actually believes it. It all started with a dual-blade system.

He was just standing there, right in the moon-beam shine, regarding his neighbors through his telescope and thinking about shaving. When he had descended the steps from his post of wilderness, he opened the lid of his toilet and retrieved his razor. It was dripping. He just looked around, smashed his mirror from the sink for the hell of it. His face smiled thousandfold in the shards, fracturing his grin into a gaping wound. He stopped smiling. He kept thinking about everything he could shave with his shaver. It was freaking him out. He decided to visit the monkey in his yard in his panties.

It was a bit difficult to think straight because Rick doesn't understand language. At all. For him everything was just a bit odd, a bit likeable, and a bit peanutbutter. That sentence was after him. Visit the monkey in his yard in his panties. Whose panties? Rick's, or the monkey's? Rick was about to encounter a pantie'd monkey, and he himself was gonna wear panties, too, he decided. That is him. That is Rick. Rick is wearing panties. The monkey is wearing panties. Hadn't he given his only pair of panties to the monkey? It didn't make sense. Rick smashed his head against the empty space above the sink, formerly occupied by the shards of a mirror (or by a mirror? How could he say it was not broken, because obviously it was?) - well he smashed his bald head, his almost-bald head which he was gonna shave, against the not-existent mirror and stumbled back and fell into the bathtub. The water started running. A brown tube of unnecessary hair wax fell into the tub, and the water turned brown, and soon it was spilling all over the place. When Rick regained his consciousness he was convinced it was raining shit. The monkey had climbed the roof and was banging his hands, or claws, or whatever they are against the window. His genitalia showed below his panties, which he had put on his head, and they were blown up and reflected thousandfold in the shards of the mirror. Rick went unconscious again. His monocle fell into the shit-water. Rick dreamt of his dual-blade system. Just another typical day for him.

You know that kind of every-day-heroes? Can't live with 'em, can't live without 'em. Worse than women.