Twerking Monkeys

by Two Guns and a Knife

Nah, that's not how the story ends, Cupcakes. A crazy little story full of doubts, unfortunate and unlucky accidents and events, indecision, and sad mad people. Theme Song: A Matter Of Trust by Billy Joel. HEA? Maybe. No animals were harmed in the marking of this unexpected journey, BTW.

1. But Darling, We All Came From Chimpanzee

But Darling, We All Came From Chimpanzees

She can't believe her eyes.

Her dear husband is having sex with a tall slim woman on the brand new kitchen table right in front of her eyes. Suddenly all she can remember is their wedding vows. She can still see the gentleness in his eyes. She can still smell the beautiful flowers. To have and to hold. From this day forward. For better, for worse. For richer, for poorer. In sickness and in health. The sky was so blue and so bright. She was so young and so beautiful. They were so happy and so hopeful. Until death do us part. Love. Rings. Promises. Lie. Joke. A slap in her face. How she wishes she has a gun in her purse. She chokes on her silent tears when she recognizes that woman. No. No. No. This can't be happening. Surely, there must be a mistake. Nobody—life, fate, God, or whoever is in charge—can be that cruel. The shopping bags and keys drop from her limp hand. Her husband and the other woman, breathing heavily, startled by the sound, turn their heads toward her.

"Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God." The naked woman, with those thin long legs wrapped around her husband's hairy torso, squeaks.

"Wait, Helen. I can explain." Frank, still deep inside Angie Morelli, actually pales.

She stands there, staring at them with wide reddened eyes, and struggles for words. She was here to add a finish touch for Stephanie and Joe's future home. On the way here she was humming a song. All the pot roasts and mashed potatoes. All the home-baked cookies, pies, and cakes. All the busy afternoons. All the pastas and gravy boats. All the whiskey inside her kitchen cabinet. With great will power she swallows a wail. With trembling hands she fishes out her phone, takes several quick photos, and posts them on her Facebook wall. For all to judge. For all to see. She doesn't give a damn anymore. She then, calmly, despite the pleading and begging, pushes the button and makes the call.

"Joe?" In a soft voice Helen Plum informs her most recent Facebook friend as the tangled naked bodies tumble from the table. "The wedding is off."