Friday, November 18, 2005

Fucking Eskimo Shit.

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I don’t know where you think you’re coming from with that shit, man. Those are definitely not going to fly as monkeys. Anyone can tell that they’re raccoons or something. Wolverines? What the hell are those anyway, Jack?

They’re not wolverines Billy. They’re nutria monkeys. And of course no one would fall for them being monkeys. Unless they were shown from really far away, to people who had no idea what a nutria monkey looked like. Eskimos maybe.

But we don’t know any Eskimos, Jack.

No one does, Billy. They’re made up. Made up by the Inuit to hide their true identity as the real Eskimos.

To hide their what?

Identity.

Oh.

Yeh, to hide it so that no one would ever realize that they themselves were the real deal. So that the white settlers would go off searching for some weird-ass igloo-living seal-beaters that arm wrestled polar bears or some shit, way out there in the desolate Yukon, to steal land from and give diseases to rather than the real Inuit. Like a snipe hunt.

Ah. That’s smart.

Damn right it is.

So, how does that relate to this nutria monkey situation?

I think it might have been some monkeys that told me I could find monkeys in Louisiana. I went, and these are all I could fucking find. So, nutria monkeys they are.

Oh. Good one. You were on, like, an Eskimo hunt then.

Well, whatever. They’re a bunch of fucking monkeys now.

Right.

Hey, don’t monkeys fling shit? These things aren’t flinging any shit.

I don’t know, Jack.

They really need to be flinging shit.

I don’t know about all that, Jack. Is it really necessary?

Yes. Yes, it is. Here, fling this when the crowd gets here.

Fucking Eskimo shit.

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