“Great Apes”

by Michael Wolman


The seminal moments and major breakthroughs in history have been well-documented: the creation of the movable printing press by Johannes Gutenberg, the discovery of the Americas by Christopher Columbus, the invention of the pizza bagel by Luigi Shapiro. What few people realize, however, is that many of Homo sapiens’ greatest triumphs were actually achieved by other Homos, and that our closest genetic relatives—fellow primates both extinct and extant—have had some remarkable accomplishments of their own. Herewith, a few of the most noteworthy:

August, c. 6 million B.C. 

An early hominid (Orrorin tugenensis) known as Cialo the Erect becomes the first mammal to walk upright. His parents record the occasion with their brand-new iPhone 5, but, tragically, the file doesn’t compress correctly during the upload and the data is rendered irretrievable, the moment lost forever.

December, c. 3.2 million B.C.

Lucy (Australopithecus afarensis), the three-and-a-half-foot-tall simian who lived in what is now Ethiopia, remains paleontology’s most famous specimen. Yet it is her lesser-known brother Dave, who, by lifting his knuckles off the ground one balmy Christmas morning, truly revolutionizes bipedalism. This new form of locomotion enables Dave and his descendents to, as they put it, “give the finger” to rival species of hominids who cross their paths during migrations.

c.26,000 – 25,962 B.C.

A Cro-Magnon (Homo sapiens sapiens) girl named Ayla becomes the last human to interact with, and live amongst, Neanderthals (Homo neanderthalensis). She matures into an intelligent, athletic, fully erect young woman who looks remarkably like Daryl Hannah. The Neanderthals, on the other hand, quickly go extinct. Their humiliation is exacerbated many years later, when several males reappear in society only to be forced into slavery as pitch-cavemen for GEICO auto insurance.

June, c. 15,300 B.C.

In what is now southwestern France, a Cro-Magnon proto-frescoist known by the one-name moniker Troglodytangelo completes his impressionist masterpiece in a Lascaux cave. He calls the painting The Magnon Struggle, explaining, “It commentary on existential solitude of all living creature.” Says his mentor, Francois, “Me proud.”

March, c. 7700 B.C. 

Nearly 4,000 years before the first humans start carting around their wool in Mesopotamia, a chimpanzee (Pan troglodytes) from modern-day Zimbabwe (then Rhodesia) known as Derek the Ingenious unearths a small cylindrical stone and, using tools and his own feces, fashions it into the world’s first wheel. “Ook ook!” he reportedly cries. “Eureka!” He quickly replicates the process, creating seven more wheels, which he fastens to the bottom of his shoes, thereby also inventing the world’s first roller-skates. Two months later, Derek dons his signature helicopter beanie and gives a public demonstration of his new invention. “Ook ook ook! Ook ook. Ook!!” he screeches as he skates figure-8s in a local forest clearing. “I have discovered a new method by which to transport goods and feces from place to place in a faster and more efficient manner. I shall call it ‘The Derek’!” (The name is later changed by a rival group of bonobos to “wheel.”)

December 20, 1978

Every Which Way But Loose, starring Clint Eastwood as Philo Beddoe and Manis the Orangutan (Pongo pygmaeus) as Clyde, is released. The film is a critical flop, but its financial success opens the doors for future simian-thespians, including Willie & Harry the Chimps (Project X), Amy the Talking Gorilla (Congo), Katie the Capuchin (Friends), and Sylvester Stallone (Rocky III). Meanwhile, inspired by his acting success, Manis the Orangutan moves behind the camera; 14 years later, he becomes the first Indonesian-born director to win an Oscar, for Unforgiven. Eastwood accepts the award on Manis’s behalf.

July 1981

After years of abuse suffered at the hands of his owner, a mustachioed plumber named Mario, a pet mountain gorilla (Gorilla beringei beringei) from Tokyo finally snaps and exacts his revenge by kidnapping Mario’s beautiful inamorata, Pauline. Curiously, despite being neither a domesticated equine nor a direct descendant of King Kong, the 800-pound silverback dubs himself Donkey Kong. To prevent Mario from recovering Pauline, Kong pelts his indefatigable former master with barrels thrown at even intervals, which works most of the time, depending on Mario’s timing and agility.

April 12, 1998

Although best known for being the first ape to communicate her desire for bananas and kittens via American Sign Language rather than simply grabbing them from zookeepers’ outstretched hands, Koko, the world’s most famous western lowland gorilla (Gorilla gorilla gorilla), breaks another primate barrier in the spring of 1998 when she becomes the first non-human to host an online chat session. “Lips fake candy give me,” she says at one point in the Q&A, the only instance of an answer resembling a complete sentence. Some critics contend that Koko doesn’t seem to understand any language being directed to her in the transcript, while others insist her use of an imperative verb accompanied by both a direct and an indirect object proves she has correctly foretold 9/11, the Iraq War, and the bursting of the real estate bubble and subsequent financial crisis.



“The Safest Hiding Spot”

by Andy Simmons


Elephants are known to have the widest assholes. Some choose to use their ass as a place to stash bags of crushed up Cheeze-Itz while others choose to stuff other objects inside for whatever. South of the border, young Brewster the Elephant uses his tight asshole for the first time. It takes a couple of drinks to relieve the tenseness inside but he is able to stash Crackesr the Duck inside his rectum.  “Oh man,” says Brewster. “I hope I don’t crap myself in public.”

Intoxicated and sweaty, Brewster passes inspection at the border. From there, it takes thirty-minutes for him to arrive home and squeeze out Crackers. “God damn,” goes Crackers. “It was hot in there.” Crackers shakes his feathers  and then flaps the fecal matter off his wings. He waddles out from under Brewster and then apologizes to him. “You don’t mind if I wash up before I leave?” he then asks.

Brewster lies on his chest with ass facing a fan. “No, go ahead,” he says. “Make yourself at home. I think I’m just gonna rest, man.”

As Crackers hurries to the bathtub for some scrubbin’ and cleanin’, Brewster falls asleep. Bubbles blow out as his snores sound like he’s eating the carpet.

Crackers fills the bathtub up halfway. He starts rubbin’ his armpits and shines the outside and inside of his wittle yeywo beak with a toothbrush he finds on the bathroom sink. “Well jeez,” he says to himself. “I don’t really know what to do next. I guess I can stay here. The loaf did say I can make myself at home, right? So Imma do it then.”

While Crackers still washes his body and fart smellin’ breath, Perry the Turtle enters the house chompin’ on a bag of popcorn. He kicks Brewster right on the ass but when Brewster doesn’t react, Perry wedges his foot between the two cheeks and pokes Brewster’s butthole. “Awoooo,” roars Brewster as he rolls over onto his back. “Perry, hey man, what’re you doin’ here, buddy boy. Don’t you know I’m sore right there?”

“I went to the video star and bought some moooooovies from Redbox, dude” says Perry as uncovers three DVDs from under his bag of popcorn. “They were three for three-ninety-ninety on the closing down sale. To be honest, heh, I’ve never heard any of these before: The Blackside of Blacks’ Beach, Mowing Harry’s Brown Lawn, and Checking the Oil down in South Central. I’m gonna pop one of these bad boys in.”

Brewster sits up once he hears the TV turn on. Perry looks over casually. “What happened?” he asks Brewster. “You don’t look so well, dude.”

“I went South of the Border last night and just got tanked,” says Brewster.

Perry stares at the coffee table wistfully, speaking to himself. “They told me this was supposed to be a children’s show.”

“What are you gonna watch?”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

Just then Perry hears the bathtub draining in the back of the house. “Who’s here?” asks Perry.

“Oh, you know, some duck I found South of the Border that lost all his things and stuff.”

“How did he get across, Brewster?”

“I stashed him in my butt, Perry.”

The door to the bathroom shuts. Squishy shoe sounds reverberate to the living room. Crackers walks out with a hand towel wrapped around his waist as he cleans one of his ears with his wings. Before complaining about the cold water, Crackers catches eyes with Perry and lays an egg. “That’s Crackers the Duck,” says Perry. “I know this sonofabitch.”

“Perry, you’re gettin’ all purple face, budster,” says Brewster. “You know that’s not good for your heart.”

“No, Brewster. You’re helpin’ a wanted man.”

“Oh c’mon now, just because he’s an illegal doesn’t mean we should turn him to the INS. He’s just lookin’ for a better life like the rest of us.”

“No, this guy is a drug lord South of the Border, Brewster. We can get extradited just for him being in your house.”

“I’ll just tell the people the truth, Perry. I’ll just say I thought he was just a poor immigrant looking for a better life, so I smuggled him across the border by stashing him in my butthole.”

Cracker then interjects, “Hey whoa Brew-boy and Pear-Bear, I decided to leave that life behind. That’s why I wanted to come back to the states, guys. I want to start a family. I want little tiny Crackers runnin’ around in my beach mansion.”

After a slight pause during an awkward moment for Perry, he asks Brewster, “Did you watch Cracker go into your ass?”

“No, I was closing my eyes and biting on a branch. That shit hurt.”

“Did you put crushed Cheese-Itz in his ass, Cracker?”

“Maybe,” says Perry.

“God damn it, Brewster. You just helped Crackers smuggle Cheeze-Itz across the border.”

“Is that bad?” asks Brewster.

“Is that bad? Brewster, we can do some major time for this.”

“The stuff is worth a lot of money.”

“A lot of money? Well, I guess what’s done is done. Mind as well clean up on it.”

“That’s fifty-five G’s of Cheeze-Itz, son,” says Crackers.

“See with just that we can pay bail and then some.”

“You can’t pay bail with that,” says Perry. “God damn it, Brewster. I just wanted drink a little tonight and watch these movies I got for Redbox.”

“So what are you gonna do?” asks Cracker.


Perry swerves and bursts through traffic with both his hands and his teeth on the steering wheel. Blue lasers form a tube around the car like a speed-of-light roller coaster. When he slows down back to the speed limit after tearing through 200 miles in record time, the lasers phase away giving to the Hawaiian t-shirt sky full of pluermia flowers. “It is such a nice day out,” says Brewster. “Anyway, when’re we gettin’ there, I’m ‘bout to blow, man. I do have a time limit.”

Soon, the three arrive to a four story building made out of red bricks with a greenhouse on the top. Entering, Crackers starts speaking in Duck to the D’ann the Receptionist.  “Do you think Cracker is gonna give us a gun?” asks Brewster. “

“This is gonna be a onetime deal for me, Brewster,” says Perry. “I don’t wanna gun.

“Still be cool kind of. I’d shoot myself or maybe you on accident. Best off I don’t get one.”

“He’s waitin’ for us,” goes Crackers.

In the elevator, Brewster stands behind Perry and Cracker. He starts to sweat as the elevator climbs. Drips of water rush out as his skin starts to heat up. Crackers’ face become incredulous as he glares at the door with his eyebrows pushing close together. Perry spits on his hand and cleans his naked scalp right when the elevator jerks to a halt. “Let’s make this quick,” says Cracker.

They exit onto the roof of the building. A small gust blows some tumbleweeds on by as a tall, slender fox exits the greenhouse in a labcoat. “Welly, Well, Well,” goes the Fox. “I gotta hand it to ya, Cracks. It’s gettin’ harder and harder to do business here in the states. So where is it?”

“Brewster has it,” answers Crackers.

“Well then?”

“Um,” goes Brewster. “Can I give it you in private?”

“Right here is fine.”

“Okay, I’m jus’ uncomfortable givin’ it to you in front of everybody.”

“Brewster, you already don’t wear pants,” goes Perry. “Just squeeze it out or have someone pry it out with a stick. No one cares.”

“I had to pack it all in his ass,” says Crackers.

“I’ll see what we can do.”

The fox bends Brewster over, snaps on some latex gloves, spreads the asscheeks, penetrates the hole with his fist and continues further in until his whole arm is immersed into the rectum. “Well-ell-ell,” goes the foxy-do. “I gotta bag right ‘ere, ya. It’s like wedge tight though.”

“Don’t pull too hard,” says Brewster and with a wink. “Somethin’ is a’brewin’ in me.”

“It’ll go.”

“It feels like there is a giant slingshot inside me ready to fling a water-balloon filled with dog crap.”

“I’m gonna need some help gettin’ this out,” says the fox-guy.

Crackers flaps his way up to fox’s shoulders and tugs on it. As they pull on the bags inside Brewster, the rubbin’ of the fox’s arm in the asshole sounds like someone runnin’ their fingers against a balloon. “C’mon, you gotta help too,” the fox says to Perry.

Reluctantly, Perry joins them in the tug-o-war. Brewster yells at them to stop, shoutin’ , “I’m gonna blow. I’m gonna blow.” Then continuing after three tugs, they retrieve the bag but instantly a large burst of foul air blows out of Brewster along with the rest of the bags breaking and decking Perry, Cracker, and the fox with creamy, mashed up orange Cheeze-Itz. Some of it manages to go over the roof and fall down onto the streets. “We gotta go,” says Crackers. “Now, now, now.”

Hurrying back down the freeway at max speed, that lightspeed, they arrive back at the home in the daytime. The clock in the car ticks faster to keep up with the present. “Imma take another bath,” says Cracker. “This has been a rough day for me.”

“No,” says Perry. “You’ve gotta go. You’re bad news, man. You’re gonna ruin this spot.”

“Where am I supposed to go?”

“Wherever you came from.”

“That was South of the Border. You can’t expect me to go back there.”

“I don’t care. Anywhere but here.”

“Oh c’mon,” goes Brewster. “He can stay here a bit if he wants. He’s not gonna hurt anyone.”

Perry follows the two scoundrels inside and locks the door behind them. Brewster grabs one of the DVDs. They then hear the water rushing into the tub.  Brewster takes out a bottle of laxatives from his pocket, diddles with the remote as he turns the DVD player on, and then kicks his shoes off. “Why are you drinking laxitives?” asks Perry.

“Having all this people and stuff inside me is making me congested,” says Brewster. “I gotta clean my system out, man.”

Opening the DVD case, Brewster finds a paper note shaped like a CD saying, “That’s what you get for renting from Redbox, faggot.”

“There is a note for you,” says Brewster as he chugs the bottle of laxatives.

Right before Perry can read the note, he hears banging on the door follow by screaming, “Eh, dis iz duh pellice. We hear da dere iza fugitive hidin’ in ‘ere sumwhere.”

“We’re dead men, Brewster,” says Perry. “I told you.”

“Hold on, man,” says Brewster. “I got an idea.”

Brewster hurries into the restroom to only find Cracker washing his balls with Perry’s toothbrush, but he pays no matter to it. “The cops’re here, man. They’re looking for you. Hurry up in get in my ass before they ship us all of us to the fudge packing factory.”

With no hesitation, Cracker squeezes his way into Brewster’s ass beak first. “Oh, hey,” he says. “This is—this is a lot more spacious than last time.”

Returning from the restroom, Brewster opens the door up for PJ the Gargoyle Cop. “Hey, man,” says Brewster. “Do you have a warrant?”

“I dunn even know wut da iz,” says PJ as he walks in. “’Ey, dis ain’t a bad plaze to live in. I bit you two’re drug dealerz fersure. Whut you got goin’ on ‘ere?”

PJ sits down on the couch next to Perry, kicking his feet on the coffee table. The glass shatters slightly when his heel touches. “Da’s a nize TV ‘ere. Ken you believe dey’re payin’ me overtime for diz?”

From inside Brewster, Cracker says gingerly, “I can’t be in here anymore. You gotta take me where no one will find me.”

“I know just the place,” says Brewster.

“Juzt duh place f’oh wut?” asks PJ.

Raising his eyebrows at Perry, Brewster says confidently, “To take a load off.”

Quietly, Brewster leaves his home through the back, escaping on his old bike. He pedals down to the Cali-Cal Bridge. When he arrives at the top of the bridge where it overlooks the bay, he sits on the ledge with ass wafting in the air. He looks down below him. It’s at least a hundred foot drop. Then, feeling the laxatives rushing through his system, Brewster says, “Alright, Cracker. You’re safe to come out now.”


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