IT’S my birthday so I’m allowed paper and crayon to send one message to the outside world.
I’m in Monkey Prison.
It is horrible here. I wake on my 25th birthday and I’m tied up and hanging upside down as monkeys shriek “it’s your birthday it’s your birthday it’s your birthday! Pinata Pinata Pinata!”
So much different from my 24th birthday bash. Back when I was the Monkey King.
I only get one present today. It’s from my friend Cujo, and he gives me The Birthday Dirk.
“Ooh, what’s this?” I said, groping in the dark for what my monkey friend hands me.
“It’s a dirk.”
It turns out there is a tradition in the Monkey Prison. We have no weapons except the Birthday Dirk. You only are allowed to wield it if it’s your birthday. And on your birthday you can attack anybody you want with it and nobody will stop you. If it’s not your birthday and you hold it, everybody will beat you up. You get to hold it until it’s someone else’s birthday and then you pass it on.
I decide not to stab anybody today.