James Meets a Chimpanzee
James P. Throckmorten awoke from his sleep as he normally did: since his wife's passing two years earlier, James had slept in his easy chair each night. This morning, he assumed, would be like all other mornings since Julia's death.
He reached for his pack of cigarettes on the side table next to his chair, retrieved one, lit it, and inhaled deeply. James had quit smoking at his wife's urging almost ten years ago, but after her death he saw no reason to forego his one remaining pleasure.
He exhaled, watched the smoke curl into the air, and wondered what the day would bring.
“Good morning, James.”
Startled, James began to focus his eyes on what revealed itself to be a chimpanzee wearing tails, top hat, and holding a cane with one paw.
The chimpanzee repeated, “Good morning, James.”
James pulled himself upright in his chair and continued to intently stare at the intruder.
“James, I am your guide. We will be departing for the afterlife shortly. Do you have any questions?”
Gathering himself, James took another long drag on his cigarette and looked around the room for some sign of the room that he had become familiar with over a period of years. All seemed as it was the day before.
The chimpanzee repeated, “Any questions?”
“Yeah.”
“Go ahead.”
“I know I'm having an…episode of some sort. Chimpanzees don't talk or wear top hats for that matter.”
“This one does.”
“So I see.”
James closed his eyes, slumped back in his chair and assumed he would fall back to sleep and then return to his normal world.
That didn't happen.
“James, I'm your guide.”
James opened one eye and asked, “For what? To where?”
“James, I think you know.”
“No, my little monkey friend, I do not know.”
“First of all, I'm not a monkey. I'm a chimpanzee. I'm here to guide you to your afterlife…your reward.”
“Ha! 'afterlief' implies that I've died, yet here I am.”
Mr. Throckmorten, you passed away at 6:46 a.m. central standard time…you're deader than a doornail, dead meat, unequivocally deceased.”
“Hogwash, my little furry friend…and another thing, why on earth would God or St. Peter or whomever send a monkey…
“Chimpanzee.”
…to “guide” me? Tell me that.”
“Well, Mr. Throckmorten, checking your records, we saw that you have always had a fine sense of humor and thought a chimpanzee guide would be perfect for you.”
“It seems ya'll could have sent something more dignified life a dog or a cat or…ah! maybe, an angel. Holy crap! I'm arguing with a monkey.”
“Chimpanzee.”
“Listen, Chimp, I need a cup of coffee before going any further. It's pretty rude awakening me from a full sleep and telling me I'm…dead.”
“Fair enough.”
The aroma of a freshly brewed coffee wafted into James' nostrils from his sidetable.
“Nice. Thanks.”
James closed his eyes hoping the monkey---chimpanzee---would be gone when he opened them again.
No, the chimp was still there smiling softly at him from across the room.
James took a sip of his coffee and asked, “Well, which way am I going---to Heaven or Hell? That seems like a fair question.”
“Yes, Mr. Throckmorten, fair indeed, but I'm not authorized to answer it.”
“Perhaps you could tell me what kind of climate to dress for?”
The chimpanzee laughed and shook his head “no.”
“How's the coffee.”
“Very good---tell me this, my chimpanzee friend, what if I decide not to go with you. You know, expressed my freewill.”
“Good question. Whether you choose to allow me to guide you to the next world or you set off on your own, you're still dead. If you choose to follow me, you'll get to your appointed afterlife.”
“And if I don't?”
“Mr. Throckmorten, according to your record, you watch TV a lot…a lot. Do you watch the programs about ghosts.”
“Yeah, sometimes. I don't really believe the stories about ghosts, but they're entertaining.”
“You should. Not all are true, but most are.”
“Are you telling me that ghosts really exist?”
“Absolutely.”
“Well, holy crap.”
“Ghosts are folks who don't make it to their afterlives. One way they end up as 'ghosts' is that they refuse to follow their designated guide, like moi, and end up wandering the earth unhappy and many only get pleasure from saying 'boo' or some such to innocent strangers. It looks life a pretty miserable 'life' to me.”
“Me too. You know, if I agree to go with you, I'm taking a pretty big gamble.”
“I suppose, but according to your record, you were always a pretty big gambler.”
“Is that a plus or a minus in my book?”
The chimp gently chuckled.
James struggled to his feet. At that moment, he heard what sounded exactly like an extended and unmelodious fart coming from his remains in his chair.
“Holy crap. Lead on, lead on, monkey---chimp.”
enough