Monkey scandal uncovered!
Our reporter risks his life and travels the globe in the search for the truth!

        By [P]aradox
         Crime Reporter

Ever since I saw the photograph of the monkey peering curiously into a computer screen, I haven't been able to think about much else. What was the that peculiar simian doing? After analysis, the screen itself was determined to be displaying elements of a computer game. Was there a creature actually smart enough to play a computer game? Was there any such thing as a monkey that could program a computer game? That's what I wondered in those sleepless nights when I'd think about it for hours, just trying to unravel the mystery of the monkey. It became a powerful force in my life, something that drove me, and I decided to get to the bottom of the matter. And so I found myself one day standing outside in a dreary rainfall at my local airport.

I gazed into the sky, and just then the clouds cleared and the sun burst out into bright glory. My mood brightened considerably, but then another shadow fell over me. I gaped in awe. Then an idea blossomed in my fertile mind. The only company I knew of that would use such insidiously cruel tactics of slave labor was Blizzard, a company based somewhere in the United States. It was a lead, I thought, that was well worth following up. So instead of taking the flight to Africa as I had intended, I was soon jetting towards the south-western USA.

I glanced out my window and watched the ground beneath as the plane began its landing approach, many hours after departure. My forehead creased in bewilderment. Surely the Americans were not that culturally backwards! I was sure I could see buildings in the Diocletian style of ancient Yugoslavia. Then I gasped and strained my eyes as a horde of tiny green monsters thundered below the airplane. I watched them engage a small army of tall swordsmen. Then the reality struck me, hard. Swordsmen? In the US, arguably the most technologically advanced country in the world? Maybe this was typical Los Angeles behavior - the green monsters didn't surprise me anymore - but I was worried. Very worried. And so when the plane landed, I was the first to get off, heading for the nearest shelter. I spotted a large stone building and headed for it, slipping through a convenient side door. There was nobody in sight. I crept through what appeared to be a medieval arms room, opened the nearest door, and stepped into a cold, small room.

The room had a single furnishing, and that was a rather laden table. I looked through the contents of some old architectural drawings, several ancient magical scrolls, and a January issue of Playboy. Then I stumbled upon an old scrip that had a map on it. I took out my camera, but the scroll burst into flames in my hands. I dropped the charred remains of the precious map onto the table. Holding a hand to my eyes, I tried to remember the key areas on the map. Penn- Pennylvanus? No, Pennsylvania! And the name on the map had been Carversville! It came back to me now, almost like a magic charm. The name had been written in red, two names in red. The other had been Boston, and I knew where that was, at least. But Carversville was closer, and that was where I headed.

I stepped outside the big stone building and looked around at paved roads and shingled houses. Cars honked and people shouted, and the sun beamed down on me quite cheerily. I asked the nearest person where I had ended up, and he told me that this was indeed Carversville itself. Then he dropped a brick on my foot. So I hopped across the street and stepped in a pile of monkey dung. That got my heart racing. I was near to my quarry already! I looked at the building I stood next too. It was labeled "Ethermoon Monkey Services, Inc." I looked through my small booklet of Business Listings and discovered that there was no such establishment as "Ethermoon Monkey Services, Inc." There was, however, a small company named "Ethermoon Entertainment, Inc." And that company was a computer software business. I tucked the booklet into my breeches and stepped inside.

My looked around, stunned, and saw hundreds upon hundreds of every kind of monkey you could imagine. Gorillas, orangutans, and chimpanzees - they were there, and in great numbers. I had to do something. Call the SPCA? Notify the authorities? I hesitated, uncertain of what would least give myself away. Then I decided to penetrate the core of the place, to find the mastermind behind the entire operation. I ventured deeper into the gigantic complex, which was full of twists and turns and spike pit traps. All around me, monkeys chattered and growled, for the most part appearing quite stupid. Could my original hypothesis - that a monkey was programming the software - be wrong? I set aside that thought and continued onwards.

Then I reached a new are of the building, and my idea was confirmed without a shadow of doubt. All around me sat monkeys at terminals, pounding at the keyboards and chattering noisily to each other. I decided that this must be the main programming room. After watching the monkeys for about fifteen minutes, being quite intrigued with their efficient work, I walked on towards the center of the building. The man behind this atrocity must be close. I quickened my step. He had to be near, and he had to be brought to justice.

I opened the last door separating me from the great operative, the manipulative guru who had designed this entire operation. I stopped, frozen in my tracks. Then I screamed and ran. What I had seen would never again be seen by man. What I caught on camera is a pale shadow of the true horror I met beyond that door. Never again shall I pursue a mere whim of my mind. Never shall I travel leagues upon leagues in search of that which should remain hidden. Because the lesson I learned beyond that last door is that monkeys are evil.

I sure could use a banana after all that hard work.