mr. meat's adventure


Johnny the Monkey Boy sat down at a busy Commuter Street coffeeshop table.  He squinted at the people around him.  Then he placed a big black book in front of him on the little table.  A waitress came by, so Johnny ordered a coffee.  Then he retrieved a pen from his jacket pocket and opened the black book.  The book was mostly full of blank pages.  Some of the pages though had the monkey boy's messy handwriting on them.

The tired-looking waitress brought Johnny a mug with coffee in it.  He drank some.  Then he thought about what he wanted to write.

Johnny liked to write.  He wasn't very good at it, but it gave him hours of distraction so he wouldn't have to think about other things for a while.  Like the weird tapping noise that came from the basement at 3 AM.  Or memories he didn't want to be remembering.  Or how he owed $7,243.22 to Hyena Banks (and the letters he kept getting from them that got more and more angry-sounding with time).  Or how there was a bit of blood last time he made monkey dirt ("Damn angel", Johnny thought).  Or how he had 93 bags of Ramen noodles and they were all shrimp flavoured.  Or how he very much disliked shrimp flavoured Ramen.

There were many things the Monkey Boy didn't want to think about.  So Johnny wrote little stories.  He never really shared them with anyone.  They were just for his diversion.

So he sat at that outside table at the bustling Commuter Street coffeeshop and began to write words onto a blank page in his book.

Johnny wrote:

Mr. Meat was baffled to discover that morning when he woke up that he was no longer the owner of a penis.  "What in blue's tarnation is going on here?!" he thundered as he stared down in fearful awe at his now sinisterly empty pubic area.  Then Mr. Meat began to cry.

and then smiled.  He liked to put his Mr. Meat character into all kinds of strange situations.  He continued writing more, writing next about Mr. Meat's wife.  Johnny made her cry first, but then laugh at her poor husband.  Johnny smiled down at his book as he wrote.

Then the Monkey Boy was distracted by some noise from across the street.  A homeless man was screaming and shouting in front of Malachai's Pastry Shop. He was making quite a scene.  The homeless man was cursing a lot.  The man looked very angry.

Johnny tried to hear all the words the angry man was shouting, but a convoy of FEDCO transport trucks roared just then down the street.  The convoy was very loud.  In between the passing trucks Johnny could see the mad homeless man's mouth moving like he was shouting.  But he couldn't even hear the curses now.  It reminded Johnny of having a TV turned down low so you can't hear the words.

Johnny looked back down at the two paragraphs he'd just written about Mr. Meat's latest adventure.  He tried really hard to think about what he wanted to have happen next.  But the Monkey Boy felt a little bit distracted now.  He just couldn't make himself focus on the adventure of Mr. Meat.

Johnny looked back across the street.

Four monks - probably from Chaplin's Monastery - were in front of the pastry shop now.  They had grappled the dirty homeless man to the ground.  Johnny had heard before that monks tried to help their neighbours.

One of the monks was kicking the homeless man.  The homeless man soon stopped making so much noise.  Then a police van stopped in front of the pastry shop.  Four policemen got out of it.  The monks and the policemen started talking.  Soon they all started laughing at something.  The homeless man was just laying on the ground, not making noise and not even moving.

Then one of the policemen noticed Johnny staring over.  The policeman glared at the Monkey Boy.  Johnny looked nervously and quickly back at his book and tried to make himself look like he had never been interested in what was happening with the monks and the homeless man.  Or anything except for the book in front of him.

Johnny sighed.  How was Mr. Meat's adventure going to continue, he asked himself.  He tried and tried, but Johnny just couldn't get back into the swing of the story.  So he stared down at the two paragraphs he'd written and read them a couple times.  After a while, he looked across the street again.  The monks, the policemen and the homeless man were no longer there.

Johnny soon noticed that the waitress was starting to give him mad looks.  Johnny thought it was because he had finished his coffee.  Maroon Coffee was busy, busy, busy, and Johnny didn't have money to buy another coffee.  He was just filling up a table a new paying customer could use instead.

Johnny frowned at his book.  He tried really hard to think about what was going to happen to Mr. Meat next.  The moment was gone though and it wasn't coming back.

Johnny packed up his book and pen.  He ducked past the frowning waitress and pretended not to see her.

Johnny the Monkey Boy walked home.  He didn't write about Mr. Meat again that day at all.


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