An excerpt from the fictional tales of Alien on Earth.
A story of an extraterrestrial’s warped interpretation of life on planet Earth.
Fix something? Fix something?! Fix something?!! What is there to fix? A bunch of monkeys flinging their feces into each other’s faces? How can you fix that? What is there to fix exactly? They produce new piles every day! What’s your fix? Restraints? Lessons in etiquette? Good luck with that.
The problem is not monkeys flinging feces, the problem is you thinking there’s a problem. Anyone who has ever tried to restrain fecal flinging has come and gone, yet feces is still flung. Each new day brings a new turd — a monkey cannot overcome the temptation. Orgasmically producing a pile into his hand, weighing it satisfyingly, he hurls it into the face of the nearest monkey.
Monkeys crap on loved ones as much or more than they do strangers. And more than anyone else, they crap on themselves to point of nearly drowning in their own piles of butt-butter. What can you fix about that? No, no, you completely misunderstand. When something is at this level of absurdity, there simply is no fix. Hey, at least they seem to enjoy themselves once in awhile.
Sure they get upset when poop gets in their mouths, but most of them get over it. But fixing it? How could it be done without measures severe enough to leave their lives devoid of everything they hold dear. These are monkeys we’re talking about, and a monkey flings feces, even the nicest ones. Just stand aside and observe, there’s nothing to fix. Oh, and keep your mouth shut, unless you want feces flung in it.