Read Online Monkey Business by John R. Erickson - Free Book Online Page B

Pasha!”
    â€œLum wum lum.”
    â€œYou have taught Pasha good treek, sizz tongue of dug and pool hard. Good treek, yes? Pasha like treek!”
    â€œWum.”
    Drover let out a groan. “Oh my gosh, I just had a terrible dream! I was locked in a house with a monkey!”
    Pasha released my tongue, swaggered over to little Drover, and booted him in the tail section. “Do not say minkey! Geet up and be slave for Pasha.”
    â€œOh my gosh, it’s HIM! I thought it was a . . . Hank, what are we gonna do?”
    â€œGet up and be a slave for Pasha, what do you think?”
    â€œYou mean . . .”
    â€œI mean we’ve been captured by a mon . . . by the Pasha of Shizzam.”
    â€œBut I thought we voted . . .”
    â€œYou’d better do what he says, Drover, before you get your tongue yanked out by the roots.”
    Pasha glanced at me and grinned. “Ver-ry good you understand Pasha!” The smile slipped into a snarl and he raised one hairy little finger in the air. “Now you leesen to Pasha. Pasha ees hungry, want food very much.”
    â€œYeah, well, if you’ll open up that back door, Pasha, we’ll run up to the machine shed and get you some dog food. Great stuff. Co-op. You’ll really . . .”
    He shook his head. “Pasha not eat dog food, you fool. Pasha want Pasha food.”
    â€œYes, I see, Pasha food. In that case, I suggest you open up the refrigerator and check it out.”
    â€œWhat meaning is refrigerator? Pasha not know refrigerator.”
    â€œHere, follow me.” I headed for the kitchen. Passing by Drover, I whispered, “Play along with him. I’ve got a plan.”
    â€œOh good!”
    â€œShhhh!” I marched into the kitchen and stood in front of the refrigerator. “Here you are, Your Worthy Worship.”
    Pasha’s eyes lit up. “I like that, ‘Your Worthy Worsheep.’ Ees ver-ry good, yes?”
    â€œNothing but the best for our Pasha of Shizzam. Now, with your hands, you can open that door. That’s right, just grab the handle and pull.”
    He pulled and the door swung open. My eyes darted over the contents until I found what I had hoped would be there. I pointed toward two amber bottles near the bottom.
    My plan was beginning to unfold. You see, whilst the monkey was holding my tongue, I had remembered a song I had learned as a pup:
    The monkey he got drunk
    And jumped on the elephant’s trunk.
    The elephant sneezed and fell on his knees
    And what became of the monk, the monk, the monk?
    You get the picture? Pretty clever, huh? Some­times I even scare myself.
    The monkey—Pasha, that is—reached a hairy little hand into the icebox and pulled out one of the bottles. He shook it, put it up to his ear, rolled it around in his hands, and tried to take a bite out of it.
    â€œNot good! Pasha not like thees. Too hard to chew.”
    â€œEh, no, Your Majesty. You don’t eat it. You twist off the lid and drink it in one big gulp.”
    Pasha grumbled around for a minute, then twisted the lid. It fizzed and spewed in his face. He didn’t like that. “What ees thees thing that speets in Pasha’s face?”
    I chuckled. “That’s soda pop, Pasha. You’ll love it. Just gulp it down and you’ll be the happiest monkey . . . oops.”
    He came over to me, and he didn’t look too happy. “You said minkey. Pasha is not minkey. Pasha is Pasha!”
    â€œYes, well, uh, hush my mouth, I never should have . . .”
    â€œSteek out your tongue!”
    Well, old stupid me had said the wrong word and now I was going to get another tongue twisting, but that was okay because my plan was working to perfection. I opened my mouth, stuck out my tongue, and prepared myself . . .
    HUH?
    I was definitely surprised when the monkey stuck the bottle in my mouth and turned it up. I mean, I thought he was going to . . . sure was fizzy and foamy, and I