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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
dead monkeys. Unfortunately this is not as easy as it first sounds 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 and a muscular black man 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.
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