"Who said that?"

you ask. All you hear in reply is someone starting to laugh hysterically. You think the noise is coming from the plant to your right.

Before you finish turning in that direction, the plant to your left seems to spring to life. Two vines descend, grab your arms, and lift you to a spot near the top of the plant, where you hang by your arms unable to move. Other vines come from the side of the plant and bind your legs.

Once immobile, you look across to the plant opposite. You see a guy about your age and size bound the way you are. "Oh, no, they got you toohoohoohoo!" he cries, his sentence ending in a forced giggle.

As you recognize his laugh as the noise you heard, you see a monkey approach wearing something you could swear you've seen in your aunt's fashion magazine, only made to scale. "Well done, my pet," she says in a congratulatory voice to the plant, which seems to purr in response as the monkey continues, "you've caught another victim for us!"

You take a wild guess. "Are you... a goochie monkey?"

The monkey smiles at you as if she were trying to channel Cruella de Ville. "My sister and I get that all the time," she says, nodding towards a figure you can just make out sitting in the plant just above your fellow captive. "There are goochie monkeys on the island, but we're Gucci monkeys. Nothing but the best clothes for us! And accessories. too. Like this dress? It's by Vera Wang, but it maxed out my last victim's credit card and so I came back here."

You say, "But I don't have a credit card!"

"That's all right," replies the monkey. "You can give me an online bank account number and password." As she climbs the plant and settles just above your head, she continues, "You see, I really need money for an adorable tiara at Tiffany's to go with this cunning little tennis bracelet. Real diamonds. I got it from a Grand Slam winner. She put up quite a fight, but she had to give in in the end. So let me know when you'll talk."

The monkey lowers her feet until they nestle securely in your armpits. Then she begins wiggling her toes. It tickles like crazy, and you immediately start giggling. In a few minutes, she has you laughing like a maniac.

You realize that, if this monkey could break down the resistance of a Grand Slam tennis champion, she'll make mincemeat of you. You give her your aunt's account number and password; your aunt never has any clue about her bank balance and probably doesn't have much money anyway. The monkey thanks you and stops tickling your armpits, jumping down from the tree. The other monkey joins her, less happy. Her victim passed out before she got anything.

The monkeys go off to raid your aunt's bank account, leaving you and the other victim still immobile. You try to devise a cunning plan to gain your freedom. But the brilliant ideas are a bit slow in coming. Before you think of something, your co-torturee begins to regain consciousness...

Written by stephan

He wakes up

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