Monkey Business by John R. Erickson Read Free Book Online Page B

Drover, nothing to be alarmed about. The little brute thinks I want to play with him. I’ll have to use a sterner tone of voice, that’s all.” I narrowed my eyes and made teeth at him and snarled. “Monkey unpin legs right now, chop-chop, or face disastrous consequence!”
    He unpinned my legs. I winked at Drover and gave him a smile. “There, you see? You can’t monkey around with a monkey. You’ve got to be firm.” I turned back to the monkey. “Now, monkey get off and wugg lum wum lum . . .”
    The little snot had reached into my mouth, taken hold of my tongue, pulled it out a full six inches, and was . . .
    Did I mention that one of the dangers of revealing Top Secret . . . yes, I did, and just as I had feared . . .
    â€œOh, my gosh, Hank, he’s got your tongue!”
    â€œWugg lumwum lum wugg!”
    â€œI can’t understand what you’re saying.”
    â€œWugg lum wugg wum lum wugg!”
    â€œDo you want the monkey to turn loose of your tongue?”
    â€œUhhh!”
    At that moment, the monkey spoke for the first time. “My name is not Minkey. I am Pasha of Shizzam, Lord Temporal and Spiritual, and heir to the throne of Raj Kumari.”
    Drover’s eyes widened and he took two steps backward. “Oh my gosh, he’s talking, Hank! And did you hear what he said?”
    â€œUhhh lum wugg wum.”
    The monkey looked at Drover. “Tell your friend that he weel not geet his tongue back until he recognizes that he ees a lowly subject of the Pasha of Shizzam. You weel tell him that.”
    â€œI will?”
    â€œIndeed, you weel.”
    â€œWhat if I go hide in the machine shed?”
    â€œIf you go hide in thees machine shed place, I weel follow you and pool your tongue.”
    â€œI just thought I’d ask.” He came creeping over and whispered in my ear. “Hank, did you hear?”
    â€œUhhh.”
    â€œI guess we’d better do what he says.”
    â€œUhhh.”
    Just then, the monkey released my tongue and said, “Are you ready now to be a loyal subject of the Pasha?”
    â€œFunny that you should ask,” I said in a bold tone of voice. “Number One, you’re not a Pasha; you’re a monkey. Number Two, I’m in charge of the ranch and wugg lum wugg wum lum wugg . . .”
    He sat there on my chest, grinning down at me and holding on to my tongue. “Perhaps you would like to try eet again?”
    â€œUhhh.” He gave my tongue back. I rolled it around in my mouth and licked my chops. “As I was saying, we could probably work out some kind of compromise.”
    The monkey—eh, the Pasha—wagged one hairy little finger in front of my nose. “No com­promise. I am Pasha, you are lowly, stinking, unwashed subjects.”
    â€œYes, well . . . that sounds like the kind of compromise we could go for, so to speak. Now, if you’ll get off my . . .”
    â€œYou must obey Pasha or bad things weel come.”
    â€œYes, of course.”
    â€œYou promise obey Pasha? Or shall Pasha seize tongue again?”
    â€œWell, no, let’s not get . . . I think we could probably . . .”
    â€œPromise or not promise!”
    â€œOh. I, uh, guess that we could take that under . . . all right, you win. We promise.”
    And with that, he crawled off my chest and let me up. That was his first mistake, letting me up, because I had already devised a clever plan for tabing the turnals on this upstart monkey. Turning the tables, I should say. For you see, I had begun drawing on my reserves of Ancient Cowdog Wisdom:
    If at first you don’t succeed, bark.
    If at second you don’t succeed, run for the house.
    And that’s just what we did, fellers, ran for the house. My monkey had gotten out of control and had decided that he was hot stuff. But he had never gone up against my favorite ranch wife, Sally May.
    And I had a feeling that when Sally May got