The last thing astronaut George Naylor remembered was a curious glow to the side of the spaceship. He had vague memories of some kind of inter-stellar whirlpool but after that it was all blank.
He checked the instruments on the ship and blinked. It couldn’t possibly be correct. The reading said the year was 3977, that meant they had travelled over 2000 years through time, into the future. With his two companions, Todge and Brandon, he left the crippled craft and set out to find shelter and civilisation.
They followed some footprints away from the ship, heading into a dense forest. The three men spoke little as they tried to make sense of what had happened to them. All of a sudden they were set upon by a cadre of highly evolved apes. Todge put up a fight and was killed on the spot. Brandon was injured in the fight and when they were brought back to the laboratory run by the apes he was lobotomised and spent the rest of his life drooling like a Leeds United fan.
The elders of this new civilisation want Naylor for experiments and over the course of many months they perform all kinds of invasive tests on him. Despite their education and perspicacity they have yet to discover the enema, and Naylor loses two stone in a matter of days as they perform a series of them on him.
Soon they accept him as part of their lives, realise he is not dangerous and allow to him move freely within their community. For his part Naylor is bereft. It’s not that he can’t associate with the apes, he simply cannot get to grips with the fact that he is the only human left. He takes to wild partying, drinking heavily and generally being quite maudlin. On one of his nights out he comes across a strip club. Sexually frustrated, but not so that he would consider inter-species breeding, he is shocked to discover that one of the dancers is also a human.
He cannot believe it. While other ape strippers are more discerning about which tunes they will remove their clothes to, the human doesn’t care. Whatever the song, she will get them off. Naylor looks on in amazement and at the end of the night, as the apes have finished putting ape dollars in her g-string he approaches her.
“I can’t believe it”, he blurts. “Are you real? Are you … human …? It’s so long … my God … what are you?”
“Isn’t it obvious?”, she says. “I’m a primate dancer, a dancer for monkeys … and any old music will do”.
Shameless!
What a fantastic piece of writing. Pure 20.
I’m going to have that song in my head for the rest of the day now.
Oh dear..
ha, i broke out the planet of the apes box set over xmas.
charlton heston. what a shit actor…
twentys story is only slightly less ridiculous than the plot line for the orginal
Heh.
You’re a dancer for monkeys, Twenty. You know you are.
The girl went on to give Naylor a lap dance for a few minutes until she was dragged off by the ape bouncer. When Naylor inquired as to why she been cut short he was informed that the club has a policy regarding the maximum time for a lap dance. It was called the:
“Nut-Bush Sitting Limit”
Get your damn hands off me, you dirty stinking ape.
Nooooooo,
You did it.
You really did it.
You damn fool!
You absolute bastard cunt
One of the above posts is not a quote from the highly successful “Planet of the Apes” franchise. Is it a, b or c? Answers, along with your name and address and a stamped addressed envelope, to the usual address. Winners will be announced on next weeks show.
Fussakes.
Snow joke, ya know!
I feel cheated.
Isn’t that always the way?
I feel sleeted.
Speaking of dancing. I’ve decided the time has come. Everyone is miserable and depressed and cold and broke. Our country has regressed into the 1970s. The winter is long and harsh and reminiscent of the 1970s too. I have been working on a project now for many years but could never felt it was the right time to reveal it. Now that I have finally perfected it and tested it with the help of a 80s hits CD, the time has come. Finally this shall be the winter of our disco tent.
You bastard.
Gentle HAHAs for Lung and HM. At least they get into the spirit of things instead of you cunts calling me a bastard. You bastards.
Quality
(aka Sir-Dancealot-The-Rave) I enjoyed that story…
And your last comment heehee
Cheated? I feel violated!
Violated? I feel desecrated!
jeeesh….that song is all over me now…
Was Peter Robinson crying?
No.
There’s just something stuck in his Iris.
Da Boom!
(I’ll get me coat now)
Deecrated? I feel good, do de do de do de do, knew that I would, do de do de do de do…
Speaking of dancing. Not many people know that Al Gore is pretty nifty on his feet. He loves nothing more than a quick jaunt around the ballroom in his specially-made dancing-shoes.
During a recent World Tour promoting his shitty film, catastrophe struck. He found his newest pair of dancing-shoes in tatters, riddled with tiny teeth marks.
‘I can’t do my stupid lecture tonight lads’, he said to his aides and bodyguards, ‘not until I find and punish the perpetrator of this terrible act.’
Mr. Gore sat crying in his room, as everyone else set about searching the building, looking for clues.
Eventually, there was a timid knock on his door. In came a bodyguard holding a feline by the scruff of the neck.
‘Pardon me Al, is this the cat that chewed your new shoes?’
“Get Your Stinking Hands off me you Damn Dirty Ape”
“You Did it,
You finally did it..
Damn You!
Damn you all to Hell!!”
They could be wrong though..
They’re right, I meant punning. Mostly.
Laughing at Itchy’s joke.
George stopped feeling lonely, going back often to the see Lara, the dancer. And as his feelings for her grew stronger so too did his rage at the apes who violated her with their ape dollars. One evening and after one too many apsinthe, George thought that one particularly apey ape was becoming overly playful with Lara and had started to ape-handle her. Incorrectly sensing that she was in danger, George rushed the stage only for Lara to shout loudly , “Stop George , we don’t need another…
Thanks for the reminder.
Happy birthday Mr Jones.
Not only do we experience the unbridled joy of Sunday’s result, we find ourselves entering the second decade of the second millennium as a minor humorous cog in the world of Twenty. Chust Sublime
Today i have particularly enjoyed this Bowie classic, the semi-automatic ending is a joy to behold.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SqWP18cIhZc
Bloody Jesus
“Today i have particularly enjoyed this Bowie classic, the semi-automatic ending is a joy to behold.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SqWP18cIhZc“
I see a copy of that single is worth up to £70 if you’ve got one handy.
Puts me in mind of my film script about a couple who ran a cafe together. They’re going though an acrimonious break up just as they both reach annual finals of the city’s best barista competition. The film’s called Crema vs Crema.