a cold stone room


When Johnny the Monkey boy woke up he was quite confused.  His head hurt a lot and he felt very disoriented.  He didn't really know if he was awake or asleep.  "My bed feels odd and hard," he thought.  He soon realized that his bed was not his bed at all.  It was a long stone slab with some moldy straw strewn on it.  There were also big heavy chains secured against hoops sunk into the slab.  Those chains were fastening the monkey boy against the rock bed.  "This is very unusual," the monkey boy thought.

The light in the strange room the monkey boy was in was very dim.  If he squinted his eyes really hard he realized he could make out some details in the gloom.  Johnny was in a small stone room with a ceiling so high up he couldn't perceive it.  The walls were made of big stone blocks that were dark and sweaty with moisture.  "Not only is my bed not really my bed, but this most certainly is not my bedroom," the monkey boy thought.

Johnny was confused.  He didn't know where he was.  Then he remembered those monks and how they had tossed him in a sack and beat him with weird sticks until he thought he was going to die.  "Oh yeah!" he thought.

The monkey boy just laid there for a while.

Some water dripped somewhere.

A breeze playing somewhere in the stone building he was in made some ghostly moaning sounds.

"Creepy," the monkey boy thought.

Soon the monkey boy's eyesight got a bit more used to the dim light, and he was able to make out a few more details of the room he was in.  The wall alongside Johnny's bedslab had a small rock shelf extending out of it.  On this shelf were two extinguished candles which were sticking out of a big pile of old wax drippings.  The drippings from these candles poured out over the shelf and hung down over the side like pale stalactites.  Beside the forlorn candles was a small photograph in a wooden frame.  The photograph was of a very large monk who was holding a piece of cake in his very large hand.  The monk was bald and he had a large "E" sewn into his monk robes.  The monk in the photograph was smiling.  "Maybe because it's his birthday," Johnny thought.  Then the monkey boy didn't think anything for a while because his head hurt very much and all the squinting had made him dizzy.  The lonely and kind of scared monkey whimpered because of the pain.  Then, when he was able to think again, he thought "I don't very much like this new turn of events in my life."

Then the monkey boy tried to sit up to see if he could get a view of more of the room he was in.  Those chains sticking out of the slab were holding him down tight though.  When he realized he couldn't move, he liked the new turn of events in his life even less.

The monkey boy fought against the restraints a little bit, but the effort made him pass out cold.

When he was passed out, he had some unusual dreams.

William Shatner was glowering at the monkey boy.  "You have to have more panache, young man!" Shatner snapped.  Then he slapped the monkey boy right across the face.  "Ouch," Johnny said.  Shatner laughed maniacally.  "You really have to do more, you silly, silly young and silly monkey."  William Shatner looked at the monkey boy quizzically.  "You don't really think you're fooling anyone, do you?"

The hood of the limousine was long and sleek. Johnny could see palm trees reflected in it as the long car made its way down the road.  "But they want my autograph," Johnny said.

"They want more than that," Shatner said.  "They want your soul, monkeyman.  They want your soul cuz they're all vampires and they need souls.  They feel the pain - hard and deep, and they'll drip you dry, you silly silly monkey.  They'll chew at you til there's nothing left at all.  Hollow monkey.  Hollow, hollow monkey boy."


Johnny woke up from his strange dream, feeling a little unsettled.  He was disappointed to realize he didn't wake up in his comfortable bedroom in his comfortable bed.  He was still in that small, damp stone room.  "It is not a good day to be a monkey boy," Johnny said.  He was not feeling too good.  He sighed into the gloom.  The sound was like the ghostly moaning of the wind that he still heard.  Forlorn.  And not very happy-sounding at all.

Then, with a terrifying screeching sound, a massive metal door (which Johnny hadn't noticed before, because he was facing the wrong way on the stone slab) swung wide open into the small stone room.  The noise startled Johnny so much that he peed his pants.

A tall and very thin monk swept into the room and peered down at Johnny.  "I heard you speak," the monk said.  Then the monk stared down at Johnny with pale, pale eyes.

"Welcome home, Monk E," the monk finally said.  He had an unkind look in his eyes.  A small, unfriendly smile appeared on the man's long face.

"Welcome back to the Clooney Monastery."


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