In late February of the year 2000 ad I embarked on possibly the most ambitious scientific experiment that mankind has ever undertaken. I had heard anecdotal evidence that if you were to get an infinite number of monkeys and give each one a typewriter they would eventually write the complete works of Shakespeare. So after a week of exhaustive searching I had amassed my literary army of an infinite number of monkeys and it was with a sense of anticipation that I locked them into a large warehouse along with an infinite number of typewriters.

 A month later I returned to check on their progress, the results were disappointing. I found that the monkeys had smashed the majority of the typewriters, and the ones that were still intact had been used to type out gibberish. More importantly however, my experiment was flawed on a fundamental level, as in my haste I had neglected to supply my simian slaves with food or water. As a result of this I had to dispose of an infinite number of monkey corpses.

 To my surprise, this was not  as easy as it first sounded as the local Kebab shops would only accept a certain amount of this meat to sell to their drunken customers and inevitably the RSPCA became involved. I attempted to explain what I was doing but the scientific merit of my audacious experiment seemed lost on them. All they were concerned with was the fact that I had single handedly wiped out the world's population of our closest animal relatives.

 From here the situation rapidly got out of hand and before I knew what was happening I was being arrested for cruelty to animals, I told them that they were over reacting and that they were only animals after all, but this only seemed to anger them further. These arguments had no more effect on the judge either and I found myself imprisoned in the same cell as a rather sinister looking gentleman known as 'Slasher'.

 Fortunately it transpired that rather than being a vicious serial killer, he had in fact got his nickname because he was convicted of urinating in public. As the authorities had decided to send me to an open prison, escaping was not that difficult. I teamed up with a group of 4 Americans including a gray haired cigar smoker, a seemingly mentally ill man and a muscular black gentleman who wore a lot of gold jewelry.

 After a prank when we had been locked in a workshop by some of the other prisoners for the afternoon we had managed to build a tank from a lawnmower and rudimentary weapons from some old washing up liquid bottles. As my new friend Hannibal said 'I love it when a plan comes together!'.

 Once we had made good our escape I had to bid farewell to the 4 others and they drove off in a big black van with a red stripe on the side. I decided to return to the warehouse where it had all begun, after sifting through the pages of nonsensical monkey writing I found the following pages which have been reproduced here for your enjoyment.