Tuesday, February 22, 2005

Winona and Angry Chimp

winona 2

Angry Chimp gentle rocks back and forth in the arm chair.

I sit on the floor in front of him, my back rests on the base of his chair. Angry Chimps legs hang either side of me.

Angry Chimp likes me to sit like this so he can motivate me, he says, when he wants something. Be it a snack from the fridge or the TV Guide or his mobile phone when it beeps the arrival of yet another message from one of his many fans.

I need to be ready to move, he says.

It's getting very late and I'm desperate for the film to end so I can go to bed. Unfortunately Daisy Randone has only just committed suicide so I know there's still at least another half hour to go.

"What do you think of the film?", Angry Chimp asks me out of the blue.

Angry Chimp rarely, if ever courts my opinion, and when he does there really is no correct way to respond without getting a beating.

"Erm...", I say nervously.

"Erm what?", Angry Chimp replies in an already agitated manner,

"What does that mean? Do you like it or not?"

And he kicks my head forward with his right foot, quite hard.

I rub the back of my head and think of what to say...

Angry Chimp kicks my head forward again, this time with his left foot, much harder. This hurts greatly, mostly due to the fact his left foot still has his Mukluk on.

"I'm waiting!", he growls aggressively.

And I say without thinking;

"I liked it",

"Oh, okay, that's good", and Angry Chimp leans forward and pats me on the head. I feel calm again for I have pleased Angry Chimp.

"Now go and get the nachos and large salted peanuts from the kitchen. Chop chop".

I instinctively get to my feet and walk toward the lounge door. I'm feeling much more confident and decide to please Angry Chimp further by making an additional comment about the film.

"Girl, Interrupted", I say, "really is a great Angelina Jolie flick".




I wake to find myself face down on the mohair rug. As I open my eyes my first thought is;

"Who spilt red wine?",

And it’s at that moment that I tongue around my teeth and to my horror find a wet gap in my gum that wasn’t there a moment earlier.

I am even more surprised that I’m not in excruciating pain...yet. Although my face is starting to expand at what feels like an exponential rate.

Angry Chimp stands directly in front of me, he leans over me and clutches a clump of my hair, pulling me up by it, to face him.

"What did you say?", He asks me, sneering and baring his teeth.

I know Angry Chimp, he expects an answer.

He must have jumped at me when I was facing the door, I reason. I must have hit the door and knocked my tooth out in the process.

As he waits, fuming...

Waiting for an answer, I look back down at the rug and notice that not only is there now a lovely vomit stain on it; there is also a very deep crimson patch of blood from where my head and my aching ripped gum was when I fell.

That was what I mistakenly thought was a wine stain.

Angry Chimp spits in my face and brings me back to the issue at hand.

"Don't make me ask you again", he says knowing I won't want him to ask me again.

"I shed", and I realise that speaking will be a challenge with a tooth missing and a torn hole in my gum where once it resided.

"I sed it wuz a gord ungelena holy filum",

"And what you meant to say was...?", Angry Chimp prompts me.

I stare into his cold yellow eyes, they narrow as he waits for me to make things worse, but I know the answer this time, I know the violence will be curtailed.

"Itz a gord Winona moovie", and I articulate 'Winona' as best I possible can, for I know only too well, Angry Chimps feelings for Ms Ryder.

Angry Chimp lets go of my hair and my body crashes back down onto the rug, my face buried again in my own sick and gum blood.

As I lift myself up I notice that Winona is in a cab leaving the hospital. I must have been unconscious for a good twenty minutes or so this time.

Angry Chimp picks up the remote and switches both the television and surround sound amp off, before walking over to the door to go to bed.

"Night then", he says as he leaves.

"Might..." I mumble as he goes.

Now, I think, where's that tooth gone?

And as I lean forward to search for the missing item, the pain kicks in and I start to cry to myself.

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