Once upon a time there was a monkey. And he had a car. And in his car glove compartment he kept a gun, and every day he drove in his car to the local zoo where he worked entertaining ugly children. and every day as the ugly children pulled his tail and made fun of his bright red anus he would entertain himself with the idea of how easy it would be to bring his gun into the zoo one day and shoot those ugly children. And their ugly parents. And his uglier co-workers. And all the ugliness in his world. He thought of this every day. Imagining the the fear and the pleading and his lack of mercy as he systematically and coldly killed all those who deserved it. He imagined the power he would feel and the smell of the cordite. It made him smile. And thus the monkey stayed sane. And his gun stayed in the glove compartment.