No Viagra® for me, please. A chimpanzee ate my nuts.

What if you began the morning just as you are now, reasonably intact and physically recognizable to friends and family. Sure, you’re no specimen. You have your flaws. Nobody is confusing you with Robert Mitchum. Maybe you can stand to lose 20 pounds. Perhaps you could do with a fresh haircut. A trip to the gym twice a week wouldn’t hurt, either.

But then let’s say your day ends in a medically induced coma because you are now without your fingers, eyelids, nose, buttocks and testicles? If this scenario has ever come to mind, then you have envisioned the real life fate of St. James Davis (whose name sounds like a movie character played by Charles Bronson).

It gets worse. Not only have you made the sudden transition from Anonymous Joe to circus freak, you must now live with the grisly knowledge that your nuts were chewed off by angry chimpanzees.

If that doesn’t make you want to scream, it ought to at least make you want to wince.

I was in the Memphis Airport, sneaking to my job interview in Knoxville, when I heard the horrendous news. Thanks to the Memphis Airport’s irritating policy of adjusting the volume of their television sets to canine decibels, I could only hear bits and pieces of the story. I boarded my plane to Knoxville believing that the plot of Conquest of the Planet of the Apes had finally come to fruition.

Of course, I later learned that there was no truth to the rumor that talking monkeys, trained by a miscast Ricardo Maltaban, were demanding George Bush’s surrender and testicles. In case you have yet to read the macabre details, here’s what actually happened:

The awesomely named St. James Davis (a former NASCAR driver) and his wife LaDonna were visiting their own finger-chomping monkey, Moe, who was recently incarcerated in the local monkey farm for (ironically) biting a neighbor’s digits. The Davis’ made a mistake of bringing a birthday cake to Moe, which stoked the jealous natures of two fellow resident chimpanzees, who decided to go Hannibal Lector on the Davis family.

As Moe watched, thinking his monkey thoughts, St. James tossed his wife LaDonna aside and took the brunt of the monkey abuse.

Chimpanzees have the strength of five to ten humans. Imagine if Lou Ferigno grabbed you by your jewel sack. Now imagine five Lou Ferignos grabbing your sack. Within seconds, St. James lost his testicles, all ten fingers, his eyelids, his noses, a chunk of his buttocks, a significant portion of his foot and his chance at becoming America’s Top Model. Finally, the people who owned the monkey farm ended the rampage with complimentary rifle bullets to the head. Featured on the menu: Chilled Monkey Brains.

You’re probably thinking, “I never knew monkeys craved man-flesh.” Me neither. But a monkey autopsy revealed no human flesh inside the stomachs of either monkey. That’s right, folks. Just like DiNiro in Cape Fear, the monkeys chomped off meaty chucks of St. James and then spit them aside like gristly pork. Patoeey!

LaDonna, who lost a thumb in the monkey beat-down, praised her husband for absorbing the majority of the monkey horror. But I’ll wager that when the heroic St. James stepped in front of those monkeys, he never thought he’d come away a eunuch. Hollywood always edits-out the testicle-munching in Tarzan movies, even the one with Bo Derek.

Meanwhile, the mighty St. James is recovering in a hospital where he has been mercifully put into a medically induced coma. Frankly, I want to be in a medically induced coma, and I’ve only read the details. When St. James wakes up, not only does he have to endure countless skin grafts and physical therapy, but he’ll also be married to a woman with only one thumb.

The Pope has died, the war still rages in Iraq, gas prices are sky high, but I can’t get over the monkey attack. About thrice a week, I Google “chimpanzee attack” in the hopes that I might obtain fresh news. Has St. James awoken from his coma? Has LaDonna told him about his nuts? Did Moe ever get to eat his birthday cake? News has been hard to come by.

Once, my brother’s hamster bit him on the finger. That was pretty gruesome. But getting eaten up by surly monkeys is another category. I’m trying to think of worse things that can happen. So far here is my list;

1. Being sucked dry by a 30-kilogram tic
2. Being thrown out of a stagecoach and into a hive of angry Africanized bees

I can’t think of any more than two things. After learning the fate of poor St. James Davis, I’m getting rid of all my monkeys. Even the one who holds the camera for me in the bedroom. I can’t risk becoming primate snack food, and neither should you.

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2 responses to “No Viagra® for me, please. A chimpanzee ate my nuts.

  1. Dammit, you surly bastard, you made PBR spurt out of Ron’s nose with this post.

  2. The funniest account I have ever read. Wonderful !

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