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The Oiliest Secret Chapter
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7
He stood seven feet tall with a protruding forehead and a
chest like a bearskin rug. In all her
life, Jenna Strumpet had never seen such
a beautiful specimen.
She hoisted herself off of the examining table and dusted
herself off. She hadn’t expected to find
him here, among hundreds of boxes of carefully categorized artifacts, including
individually wrapped and labeled dinosaur bones, some of which, perhaps,
contained the fossilized remains of the very Tyrannosaurus Rex who, not five
minutes ago, had plowed her like a corn field.
It wasn’t supposed to happen this way.
Not now. Not while she felt so
satisfied, and so sore. It would take
months, maybe years to recover. No, this
was not the time to fall in love.
And yet, ever since she’d been deserted by her former lovers
not five minutes earlier, not since the two squabbling prehistoric specters had
vanished into thin air two minutes after that, revealing, as if by a lifted
curtain, another figure, not quite as large as a dinosaur, but still very
large, and most impressive.
The Monkey Man Monster, or TMMM for short, had evolved quite
nicely in recent days. No longer did he
seek to destroy those who would deny his natural ability to adapt to his
surroundings. He no longer felt any need
to prove himself by finding conservative republicans, waiting outside their
doors, and the bashing the shit out of them with a club. Why waste your time on people who were stuck
in the past. Life had so much more to
offer.
He no longer dressed as one would expect from a caveman. Gone was the strip of saber tooth tiger skin,
replaced by a suit of clothes that would have been at the height of fashion in the
Victorian era. He a heavy wool suit, black
of course, a bowler’s hat, and a monocle.
“Hello,” he said the high nasally manner of British
aristocracy.
“Oh,” Jenna said as she ran her hand through her hair. “Hello yourself.”
“Is it me or is it rather hot in here?” asked TMMM, better
known as the Monkey Man Monster. He’d
already unbuttoned his shirt down to his belly button, but had not managed to
loosen his tie, only to throw it over his shoulder.
“It’s hot in here and
it’s you,” Jenna said. She unbuttoned
several buttons of her blouse to catch up.
“A proper young lady always wears a hoop skirt during formal
occasions,” TMMM, by which I mean The Monkey Man Monster, informed her.
“Good thing I’m not a proper young lady,” Jenna said. “So tell me,” she began as she strutted up to
him and grabbed him by the tie, “are you monkey, a monster, or are you a man?” She emphasized the word man.
“I prefer the term, Neanderthal American. My given name is Ug, although I prefer to be
called Thaddeus.”
“I like you whatever you are.”
“Madam, you forget yourself.
A woman should never speak to a man in such an untoward manner, lest she
be considered a harlot.”
“You know, “Jenna said as she extended her arm to the
massive brute with the newly discovered sexist tendencies. “I’ve always considered myself an
old-fashioned girl. I think we’re going
to get along just fine. ”
Thaddeus took her arm in his. “Well, I say,” he said. He checked his pocket watch, slipped the
timepiece into his vest pocket, adjusted his monacle, and then escorted her to
the exit.
Outside the museum, Jenna paused, prompting Tad to ask if there was something he could do to assist her. Jenna shook her head. "I just remembered something I need to get at the pharmacy on the way home."
"Oh?" Tad asked, raising his eyebrows, and dropping the monocle. "What's that?"
Jenna gave him a sly wink. "A lady never reveals her secrets."