19.
   The morons fell to the ground in terrified reverence. Their naked butts quivered and shook. What the hell was I going to do? I ordered myself to wake up. I twisted and turned trying to make myself fall out of bed. I yelled at the top of my lungs. I reached down to the bottom of my guts and let out a burst of energy. Nothing. I was strapped to a wooden yoke surrounded by a bunch of cooing, moaning halfwit shit for brains and hanging above a jungle that was about to eject God knows what with the real possibility that I wasn’t dreaming just beginning to dawn on me.

   Suddenly I felt something land on me. I turned to find those damned dogs were trying to chew me loose. They jumped on the wooden yoke and gnawed at the leather straps around my wrists. They snarled and growled. Their hackles bristled. Another roar blasted below. One of them looked me in the eyes and said, “It’s not the monkey, you moron.”