By Hunter Perez
It was one o’clock on a Tuesday afternoon, and I was standing on the top rung of a step ladder cleaning blobs of protein drink off my ceiling when the front door of my apartment began to vibrate with a knocking to the melody of “Kung Fu Fighting.” Only one person makes himself known in that manner, and I called out, “Come in, Jock, the door is open.”
The door opened and Jock walked in carrying a large box. A few steps into the apartment, he put down the box and looked about the space in bafflement. “Bingo, what the hell happened in here?”
I sighed and shook my head. “Simon wanted to make me a protein drink, but you know what he’s like with kitchen appliances – the blender exploded, and I have protein drink all over the place. Be a pal and grab some toweling to clean this up.”
Jock dug his finger into a blob of protein drink on the wall and tasted it. “Is this supposed to be strawberry or cherry flavored? None of these drinks truly taste like the fruit flavors they’re supposed to be. And where is Simon? Why isn’t he helping you?”
“Oh, he is helping,” I said. “I sent him to the dry cleaners with the curtains – he got protein drink all over them, but I can’t put them in the washing machine.”
Jock walked to the base of the stepladder and looked up to me. “Bingo, what does your dry cleaner charge for his services? The dry cleaner I use raised his prices and I’m looking for someone who is less money.”
I laughed and replied, “Oh, he doesn’t charge me anything. Whenever I need something dry cleaned, I send Simon to the store. He has a barter agreement over there – the store owner agrees to do the dry cleaning for free, and in exchange he takes Simon into a back room of the store and gets to feel his muscles.”
Jock bit his lower lip and shrugged his shoulders. “Well, that’s something they don’t teach at Wharton. Say, how many kitchen appliances has Simon wrecked? I know the microwave caught fire when he was heating up a bag of popcorn, and there was time with the dishwasher.”
“Please don’t remind me about the dishwasher,” I complained. “I really need to rethink having Simon as a fuck buddy. Granted, it’s the greatest sex I’ve ever had – and probably will ever have – but when he’s out of bed he’s a menace in the kitchen. I’m afraid my renter’s insurance is going to go up because of him.”
“Well, they do teach that at Wharton – when costs outweigh benefits,” Jock said. “Change of subject: Hey, do you remember Eddie, Ralphie’s brother?”
“Of course I do,” I said. “I can’t stand Ralphie, but Eddie’s cool. Why do you ask?”
“Well, come down, little guy, and I’ll explain,” said Jock as he put his hands around my waist and pulled me off the step ladder and placed me on the floor. “You remember that Eddie is the general manager at the zoo, right? And thanks to him, I’m on the zoo’s board of directors. Well, we have a problem that you may be able to help us with. Have you been following the news about the rare gorilla we brought to the zoo?”
“I think so,” I said. “Isn’t there some animal rights group that wants you to put the gorilla back in the wild?”
“Yes, but there’s more to it than that,” Jock continued. “It’s the Burundi Savannah Gorilla and it’s the rarest primate in the world – in fact, zoologists didn’t know that it existed until ten years ago. The zoo acquired the only captive specimen of this subspecies, and the animal rights group wants us to return it to the wild.”
“Okay,” I said hesitantly, unsure over why I was being told this information.
“Well, the zoo was supposed to do a media event to introduce the gorilla,” Jock continued. “But we had to postpone it twice because the gorilla has been ill since it arrived at the zoo. We had a new media event scheduled for tomorrow, but this morning the gorilla became ill again and is in the zoo’s hospital. If we postpone the event for a third time, the animal rights group will use that against us in claiming the gorilla cannot adapt to being out of the wild. That’s why we need your help.”
I scratched my head in confusion. “My help? I’m not a veterinarian or a zoologist.”
Jock clapped his hands on my shoulders and grinned. “No, but you’re the right size for this job. The Burundi Savannah Gorilla is smaller than the other gorillas and we need you to take its place at the media event. That’s why I brought this gorilla suit over for you to try on. Eddie will brief you on how to act as a gorilla, and you’ll be on display for the local reporters in a new enclosure at the zoo.”
Jock opened the large box he brought into my apartment and pulled out a black, furry, one-piece suit. I looked at the garment, looked at Jock, looked back at the garment, looked around the room and began to step backward.
“You can’t possibly be serious,” I declared. “Why in the world would you think I’d put that thing on?”
“Because you like being in tight enclosed outfits,” Jock answered. “Remember last year when we went to the Folsom Street Fair in San Francisco and you spent the day in that rubber gimp suit?”
“You tricked me into that,” I yelled. “You said we were going deep sea diving off the California coast and you wanted me to try on a scuba diving suit to see if it fit. But once you buckled me into it, the next thing I knew you had a gas mask clamped over my head and I was in a bar with fifty shirtless guys pawing at me.”
“And you loved every minute of it,” Jock said, pointing at my face. “You even got your photo taken with Connor Maguire.”
“Some picture,” I grumbled. “I was face down on the floor wearing that gas mask while Connor Maguire had his boot on my head. I didn’t even get his autograph. But what’s my incentive to dress up as a gorilla? Don’t tell me Connor Maguire is going to be my zookeeper.”
“That would make a great video, but no,” said Jock. “You’re doing it as a very big favor to your very best friend – me.”
“That’s no incentive,” I said glumly.
“Your very best friend who’ll pay you a thousand dollars in cash for one hour’s work,” Jock added.
I walked over to the box and started to pull the gorilla costume out while singing, “Hey, hey, I’m a monkey, and people say I monkey around.”
Jock held up the costume, which required me to step into it while Jock buttoned me from behind. The costume was a bit stiff and snug, but after a few minutes of moving about it became comfortable. Jock then pulled the costume’s head from the box and handed it to me – it was heavier than I anticipated, and I became agitated.
“This feels pretty heavy,” I complained. “Do I have to wear this?”
Jock glared at me with impatience. “How are you supposed to pretend to be a gorilla without the gorilla head?”
I thrust the head back to Jock. “Well, how about using a diving helmet instead? You can say that you’re going to use the gorilla for a ‘Robot Monster’ remake.”
Jock took the gorilla head and quickly clamped it down over my head. “Can you see and breathe, Bingo?”
I inhaled weakly and peered through the head’s eye holes. “Yeah, I think so. It’s not as comfortable as the rest of the costume, but I think I can manage.”
Jock stepped behind me and then I heard a small metallic click with a slight poke at the back of my neck. “Jock, what are you doing?”
“Oh, I just closed the lock that keeps the head fastened to the rest of the costume,” he said. “This way, you won’t have the head accidentally falling off while you’re wearing it.”
I began to pull at the head to remove it, but it would not budge. I began to get nervous and yelled, “Jock, get me out of this thing. You locked me in this costume and I’m getting kleptomania.”
“I think you mean claustrophobia,” he corrected. “Just calm down – everything is fine. Just think happy thoughts – think of Connor Maguire and your gimp suit.”
The apartment’s intercom to the lower lobby buzzed and I walked over to answer. “That must be Simon coming back from the dry cleaners.”
Jock raced to the intercom ahead of me. “Now, here’s where you can have fun. When Simon rings the doorbell, you come out in your gorilla suit and scare him.”
Suddenly, the idea of terrifying Simon while dressed as a gorilla seemed like the best idea in the world. I stood three feet away from the door while Jock positioned himself at the doorknob. As the doorbell rang, Jock quickly pulled the door open and I raised my arms into the air while give off the most ferocious growl I could muster.
Simon was not terrified – quite the opposite. He looked at me with a giant smile, ran to me and wrapped his muscular arms around my neck. “Bingo, I didn’t know you were into the furry scene! I always wanted to get into that world, but I thought you wouldn’t approve. Oh, this is wonderful. I have a fox costume at home – do you mind if I run home and get it?”
Simon hugged me and started to rub his groin across the furry costume. I looked at Jock with frustration. “Jock, if I can’t fool Simon into thinking I’m a gorilla, how am I going to fool intelligent people?”
Jock walked over to us and tousled Simon’s hair. “Of course, Simon knew it was you – how many people have gorillas in their apartment? Look, I have stuff to do – I will come back tomorrow morning at seven to pick you up and take you to the zoo. Will discuss our plan along the way.”
“Oh, okay,” I grumbled. “How about getting me out of this thing?”
“Nah, I’ll leave it to Simon to let you out,” Jock said, patting Simon’s back. “Simon, have fun with your gorilla lover.”
Jock quickly exited, closing the door behind him. Simon pulled off his shirt, banged his fists on his chest in a Tarzan-like style, and then resumed rubbing himself against me. “Oh, me Tarzan and you ape!”
As Simon aggressively caressed me while making swooning sounds, all I could do was think sadly to myself, “Seriously, how do I get myself into situations like this?”
To Be Continued
