Poop Shute

Monkey Business

Cillian scratched his head and bit his lip. he was beginning to think he and his mates had bit off more than they could chew. He was struggling with the demands of his new job, and it was getting harder and harder to hide it. He glanced down the length of the long conference table to see the others working furiously. They had a deadline looming on the horizon, and they were all feeling the pressure.

He and his comrades, Thelonius, Dexter, and Coco, had had an easy enough time bvllshitting their way through the interview process with the city planning committee, and secured the contract to design the city's freeway system, which in itself is a remarkable thing.

It's even more remarkable when you consider the fact that all four of them are monkeys. Chimpanzees to be specific.

Some days Cillian had trouble believing their luck. Four chimpanzees in high-priced suits had managed to secure a huge contract to design the freeways for... oh what was it called again? Cillian was terrible with names. Lost Angles? Lass Angelas? Something like that, anyway.

Between them they had come up with some brilliant freeway innovations. Dexter, for example, was the first to suggest that as often as possible they have off ramps at locations that did NOT include an on ramp, and vice versa. It was Coco who thought of placing an easterly and westerly on-ramp as far apart as possible, even separating them by as much as a city block. Thelonius had decided that interchanges between different freeways would be as random and unpredictable in their placement as possible, and finally, Cillian himself had been the one to champion NEVER resurfacing any freeway ever. This would make them more varied and interesting to drive on. He was particularly proud of that one.

Cillian turned to his right to point out something in the design he felt needed more attention. He was expecting to find Thelonius at his right hand, where he usually was, but was shocked to find an empty chair. He looked around the room, and found his second-in-command masturbating into a plant in the corner of the office. This was unacceptable! Masurbation was scheduled for lunch! This was company time and there was a deadline to consider.

Cillian leapt up onto the conference table, pounded the breast of his Armani business suit and shouted a series of unhappy hoots at his misbehaving cohort. Apparently, Thelonius was under the impression he was going unobserved, and looked up with a startled expression. He promptly lowered his head, pulled up his pants, and returned to his seat to resume finger-painting with his own feces like the rest of the hard-working monkeys in the room.

And therein lay the problem. The feces. Right from the start they all agreed that drawing up their designs in feces was the only way to go. It had been Dexter's idea, and they were all onboard, but now... Seeing it applied was giving Cillian second thoughts. It was slow-going, and he was no longer convinced it was the most effective way to represent their ideas.

With one final disapproving grunt for Thelonius, Cillian left his seat and began to pace, scratching his head, and eating any lice he came away with. While he felt feces was the wrong way to go, he was at a loss for a useful alternative.

And then it hit him! Why hadn't he seen it before! It was all so clear. He hurriedly grabbed his brief case, and once again leapt onto the middle of the conference table.

Again he hooted, but this time it was a higher, excited hoot. Finger-painting ceased, and all eyes were on Cillian. Slowly, and dramatically he looked from one to the other of them. He wanted to give the moment weight, power. There was a reason he was in charge, and he wanted them all to know it.

With deliberate movements, he unlocked his briefcase, and opened it with a reverence the others had never seen in him. They looked one to the other, wondering what it could be that had gotten their leader so excited. Both of his hands reached in the briefcase and lifted out...

A box of crayons. Crayola's 64 color box. These were Cillian's own personal stress release. When the others thought he was holed up in his office, working away, he was coloring in his SpongeBob Squarepants coloring book. Everyone needs some "me" time, and that was his.

He held the box aloft so they could all see. All three looked confused at first, but then slowly they began to look from the brown smears in front of them to the crayons and back again. Eventually they all made the connection that Cillian had. Crayons! Of course. It was so simple. Their faces lit up as they climbed on board with the new direction Cillian was suggesting.

First there was one clap from Coco, then Dexter, then Thelonius, then they all four of them began to hoot and clap and jump up and down with excitement. They just might pull this off afterall.