Dyscountopia (16 page)

To this end, Victor chose to converse about two very manly subjects.
 
These included
1)
sports (other than soccer), which he deemed the manliest of all activities, and
2)
sexual intercourse with women, a subject he knew almost nothing about.

As a man with what he considered to be rather high moral standards, Victor had, as yet, been unable to find that perfect mate, or, in fact anyone at all to mate with, but he’d just received a certain message on his home computer from
E-Lonely.com
that promised to change all that.
 
And as he made his way to work that morning, after finishing his usual routine, he couldn’t help but anticipate that night’s impending date and the bawdy water cooler talk that would ensue the following day, elevating him to hero status.

“Of course she’ll like me,” Victor told himself.
 
“What’s not to like?
 
She’ll fall in love with me right away, and we’ll have a night of incredible passion, and then we’ll get married right away and God will forgive us, and we’ll have two kids and get a dog.”

On the other hand, the thought had occurred to him, spurred by suspicions of his own social and sexual inadequacy, that she might not like him at all and might not marry him or even call him back.

“Then to hell with her,” he thought.
 
“She’s probably some kind of sexually frustrated communist feminist.”
 
To which he added, “That frigid bitch.”

In short, Victor was a complex creature, like all of God’s creatures, and like all of God’s creatures not so much at the mercy of God but at the mercy of his own shifting chemical imbalances, as well as a cold and indifferent universe.

****

THE AMAZING BOBO

PAN TROGLODYTE EXTRAORDINAIRE

(DONATIONS EXCEPTED)

Albert scratched his head.
 
“Pan Troglo – what?”
 
His eyes dropped to the small yurt just behind the sign, made of old tires draped in black plastic trash bags.
 
A dilapidated children’s jungle gym sat just outside the yurt, slowly rusting away.

“Troglodyte,” said the Doctor breezily.
 
“It’s Greek for cave-dweller.
 
Silly, really, since everyone knows they’re an arboreal species.”

The blood drained from Albert’s face.
 
“Species?
 
What’s that supposed to mean?
 
What species?”

“Now wait a minute,” said the Doctor, holding up his hands.
 
“Before you freak out, I think you should know that Bobo’s DNA is 99% identical to ours.”

“What?”

“And he’s got opposable thumbs, just like us.”
 
Zayus wiggled his thumbs.

Albert took a step back.
 
“What the hell is in there, Doctor?”

“What’s generally known as the Common Chimpanzee, but he’s very sensitive about it, so I suggest you use the more appropriate term, Robust Chimpanzee.
 
Now, Albert -- .”

“He’s a goddam chimp?”

Doctor Zayus put a hurried finger to his lips.
 
“Sssshhhhhhh.
 
He’s not just a chimp, Zim.
 
He’s a goddam prodigy.”
 
The Doctor began to whisper.
 
“You see, back in ’26, the government was doing all kinds of experiments with chimps and apes and orangutans; trying to breed them up to be super-smart killing machines.
 
Gorilla soldiers I like to call them -- heh-heh, get it?
 
Anyway, they abandoned the whole plan after Omega-Mart took over, and they let them go up here to do whatever they pleased.
 
Bobo set up his own business, offering advice, doing odd jobs – that sort of thing – for the right price.”
 
The Doctor jingled a small, spotty bunch of bananas in front of his face.
 
“That’s where these babies come in.”

Albert squinted back at him.
 
“How do you know all this?”

Zayus shrugged.
 
“Bobo told me.”

“It talks?”

Doctor Zayus threw up his hands.
 
“Fuck me, Zim.
 
Of course it doesn’t talk!
 
It uses sign language.”

“How do
you
know sign language?” Albert asked.

Zayus grinned at him.
 
“The Amazing Bobo taught me.”

Albert considered the sign once more.
 
“Well, he can’t be that smart.
 
He didn’t even spell ‘accepted’ the right way.”

The Doctor thrust the bananas into Albert’s hand.
 
“Jesus Christ, Zim.
 
He’s a goddam chimp!
 
Just give him the bananas.”

Zayus spun around and stomped away toward the little yurt, leaving Albert no choice but to follow.
 
Albert’s nostrils detected a nostalgic scent wafting from the door as he approached.
 
It reminded him of his only trip to the zoo with his grandmother, when he was just 6 years old.

The Doctor halted at the rubber door flap.
 
“Bobo!” he shouted.
 
“Bobo!
 
You there?”

A voice replied from somewhere inside.
 
“Ooooo.
 
Oooooo.”

The Doctor lifted the flap and entered, leading a reluctant Albert by the wrist.
 
As Albert’s eyes adjusted to the dim light he was able to make out the yurt’s simple furnishings – a small table, a grease-stained mattress, a weathered burgundy arm chair – and in the chair, a chimpanzee; the first chimpanzee that Albert had seen since he was six years old.
 
He was sitting on his head with his feet in the air, reading a battered copy of TIME.

“Ooooo.
 
Oooooo.
 
Aaaaaaaa.
 
Aaaaaaaa,” he said in Chimpeeze, tossing aside the magazine and slipping down to the floor.
 
He cleared the distance to Albert in a single bound, snatching the bananas out of his hand and smooshing one into his mouth before Albert could even flinch.

Bobo looked up at him and grinned, stretching back his lips to reveal a set of crooked, banana-covered teeth.
  
He grabbed Albert by his arm and shook it gratefully.
 
The chimp was amazingly strong; he could have easily pulled off Albert’s arm if he wanted to.

“Bobo, we need to get back down into Omega-Mart,” said the Doctor.
 
“Do you know a way?”

“Ooooomp.”
 
Bobo shook his head and wrapped his arms around himself protectively.

Doctor Zayus rolled his eyes.
 
“Yeah, I know it’s scary, Bobo.
 
That’s why you’re getting paid.
 
Now, do you know the way or not?”
 

Bobo waved his hands erratically in the air.
 
The Doctor nodded his head.
 
“Uh-huh.”

“…..”

“Uh-huh.”

“…..”

“Uh-huh.”

“…..”

“Uh-huh.”

“What does he say?” asked Albert.

The Doctor looked up at him.
 
“He says,
thank you for the bananas
.”

“But what else does he say?”

“He says he knows a way down through a drainage vent, into the sewer tunnels below the complex.
 
From there he says you can access the sub-basements and make your way up to the main floor.
 
He’s been that way before.”

Albert looked down at the chimp curiously.
 
“What was he doing down there?”

The chimp pulled his lips back from his teeth and patted the top of his head.
 
He held up an index finger and feigned peeling it with his other hand.

The Doctor nodded.
 
“Looking for bananas.”

The chimp raised his arms menacingly and made a scary face.

“He says the way is fraught with danger.
 
Many monsters.”

Albert snorted.
 
“That’s ridiculous.
 
There’s no such thing as monsters.”

Bobo turned to Albert, held a closed fist to his nose, and extended his middle finger -- a sign that even Albert knew.
 
The chimp gave him the raspberry, showering him with spittle, then knuckle-walked haughtily out of the yurt.

Doctor Zayus glared at Albert.
 
“Swell!
 
Nice going, Zim.
 
No such thing as monsters?
 
This from a guy who’s been on the roof for all of an hour now?”
 
The Doctor raised his voice.
 
“Did you think it was just llamas and pigs and chimps they let go up here, Zim?
 
Because it wasn’t.
 
There’s lions and tigers up here, too, Zim.
 
And bears, oh my!
 
And God-knows-what other demon hell-spawn, sprung forth from government experiments and unchaperoned cross-breedings and unfiltered cosmic radiation leaking in through that worn out piece of cheese-cloth we used to call an ozone layer.
 
You mix all those things together, Zim, and you know what you get?
 
Do you?”

Albert’s face turned crimson.
 
He didn’t answer.

“I’ll tell you what you get, Zim!
 
Some pretty fucking disturbing shit!
 
That’s what you get.
 
Alligators the size of a Volvo and two-headed razor-toothed dino-rabbits.
 
And other things – things you don’t even want to know about.”

Zim opened his mouth dumbly, searching for the right words.
 
“I-I didn’t know.”

The Doctor pushed his index finger roughly into Albert’s sternum.
 
“That’s because you’re not an expert on wild, carnivorous, genetically fucked-up rooftop superanimals, Zim.
 
Bobo is.
 
You don’t see Bobo telling you about your job; how to peddle grapefruit, or clean up vomit on Aisle 5, do you?”

Albert shook his head.

“Then don’t tell Bobo about his!
 
Now I gotta go out there and smooth things over.
 
Thanks a heap, Zim.”

The Doctor shouldered past him and stormed out the door, leaving Albert to regroup in stunned silence.
 
When Albert finally found the courage to exit the yurt, he discovered Dr. Zayus standing next to the jungle gym, pleading with the agitated primate as it brachiated back and forth from one end of the monkey bars to the other, skipping two at a time.

“Come on, Bobo.
 
He didn’t call you a liar.
 
He’s just new around here, that’s all.
 
And stupid.
 
Very, very stupid.
 
Tell him, Zim!”

“Tell him what?”

“Tell him that you’re stupid.”

“Wha…?”

“Tell him!”

The chimp abruptly stopped his swinging and dangled from the bars by one long hairy arm.
 
He fixed his eyes expectantly on Albert.

“Fine,” said Albert.
 
“I’m stupid.
 
Happy?”

The chimp blinked at him.