AFTER spending a few weeks with Dad and six monkeys in a fancy villa for Christmas holidays, I’m finally back in the monkey forest. Dad dropped us off at the forest gates this morning and threw each monkey out individually.
“You have all been horrible,” he said to us as he rubbed Mojo’s bite mark on his forearm. “Good riddance,” he said as he slammed the door. The car screeched away.
Rafiki started crying. This was surprising. He puts on such an arrogant persona, hates everyone, that I hadn’t noticed until then that he almost worshiped my dad. Later, I heard him mutter that my dad should be the king, not me.
I was relaxing in my favourite tree after ordering one of the monkeys to bring me an ice tea, when Gina climbed up the ladder. She didn’t look happy to be in the forest. But her boss had ordered her to come and tell me in person – because I smashed my phone after Gina and I used Bitstrip photos to argue – that the television executives were hoping to use the monkeys for another television show. A BETTER television show than the last one, which is a relief because Big Monkey was a terrible idea.
This show will be called Tree Force.
So right now the monkeys are being taught by professional renovators the basics how to build and renovate. The idea is that the monkeys will work together in pairs to build rooms around the tree while they bicker and squabble and use power tools to hurt each other (which apparently makes good TV). Supposedly, in four weeks we’ll have a super tree house.
Maybe like this!
But I have my doubts.
Have the producers forgotten these are just damn monkeys? What madness is this? Monkeys can’t build tree houses. I wouldn’t even trust the monkeys with a hammer.
At the moment Mojo is at the foot of the tree, working on the front porch. I just hope he knows what he’s doing with that chainsaw.