Chapter 36

The Last Temptation of Monkeyman

-MONKEYMAN-

I am the terror that screeches in the night.

I am the stray piece of Lego that you step on when you groggily stumble to the bathroom at 3 AM.

I am…

Increasingly irrelevant.

Yes, once, many years ago, it was I who served as this city's stalwart solitary sentinel of justice – boy, I wish there was a synonym for justice that started with S. It all began when I was 12, and bullies tormented me for my obsession with monkeys. "Monkey Boy," they called me. They would mock me with monkey noises and monkey poses. They'd throw peanuts and banana peels at me… among other things I'd rather not mention. The final straw was when they stole my beloved stuffed monkey, Matthew. Always liked that name, Matthew. Anyway, it was at that point that I knew I couldn't let the bullies push me… no, push anyone around anymore. But for that to happen, I could no longer just be Richard Andrews. No. I had to become someone else. I had to become… something else. No longer would I be a Monkey Boy… I would become… a MonkeyMAN.

And a Monkeyman was enough for a while. The bullies of the world were easy enough to cow with the skills granted by self-taught parkour and a karate class at the Y. Anything more serious I left to the police force.

But as time went on, bigger threats, darker threats, began to arise. A Monkeyman was no longer enough. Other forces arose to oppose them, first, Bridget and her crew. That was fine. I was content to handle the small stuff while they took care of bigger things.

But then they came. The mutant girls. Flashy and colorful, with actual superpowers like that ghost boy in the Midwest or those teenagers in Paris. And what's more, they had the unofficial endorsement of the mayor, so they had the sheen of legitimacy. They were fast enough to beat me to any crime scene I could get to, and many more that I couldn't. And they could take on threats I could never dream of handling.

The day they arrived, Monkeyman's obsolescence was sealed.

Oh, I've been trying to carry on as best as I can. A purse-snatching here, a cat in a tree there… but even those they're better equipped to handle than I am, what with their wings, their scratch-proof skin, and their tails that make for perfect cat lures. They can't even let me have that. And they're. let's face it, a lot more photogenic than I am.

It became clear to me just how useless I was when that alien biker guy showed up. Decibelle was able to handle him like a pro. Me? I got tossed aside like an old banana peel. He declared me not even worthy of wasting a punch on. Truly, this was rock bottom.

And yet, while by all accounts that should have been the signal that it was time to pack it in, still I cling to this identity like a jungle vine over a gaping chasm. Still, I stubbornly refuse to give up on the notion that I, too, can still make a difference.

Perhaps it was that desperation to prove my relevance that drove me to my actions today.

It started as it often did, with me listing in on an illegal police scanner. I still routinely gave it a listen every day, in the hopes that maybe I would find a crime I was suited to handle and could get to before the police or a mutant could. They were few and far between these days, but there was always the chance.

And then I heard it. Hostage situation, at the Oak Street Bank. Police negotiator on route but I was closer, and I knew that block like the back of my hand. I could sneak in and take care of them before they even knew what was happening… or so I deluded myself in my attempt to make myself feel like I still had a place in the world.

Reality proved quite different from my delusion. The police and the negotiator had arrived before I did and were stuck in a stalemate with the hostage-takers. And still, I thought that maybe I could make a difference. I knew a way in through the sewers. I could sneak in through the basement to the back room. I could get the drop on them. Take them out one by one by knocking them out with a spare velvet rope turnbuckle.

And so. Step one. Sneak through the sewer. Done. Step two. Climb in through the basement. Step three. Come up the stairs to the back room.

Step four. Find a gun pointed at my head.

"So… what do we have here…" the gunman, a well-built man in a rubber werewolf mask, said snidely. "The fuzz tryin' to sneak a guy in?" He gave my outfit a lookover. "No, not a cop, They don't dress this stupid." He snickered. "Lemme guess… you think you're some kind of superhero, don't ya? What d'you call yourself? Moron-Man?"

"Uh, well… Monkeyman, actually…"

"You're kiddin', right? Monkeyman? Well… you certainly got the smell part down."

"Gimme a break, I just came in through the sewer! You try smelling good after that!"

"I guess we'll all just have to deal with it, huh," he said, a smirk in his voice, as he manhandled me into the bank's main lobby.

There were about eight, all well-armed and wearing Halloween-style masks. The ringleader, or so I guessed because he held the walkie-talkie, wore a Frankenstein mask and held a mini-assault rifle. "Looks like we're up to eleven hostages now," he said now. "Some local yahoo trying to play hero. You pigs didn't have anything to do with it, did you? You aren't trying to put one over on us, are you?"

"Whoever that is, we have nothing to do with it."

"Can it, copper. I know you got that purple freak out there just waiting for your word to take us all out. Well, now, we've got a bit more leverage. I'm thinkin' we up our demands by another million."

"Shame it ain't the green one," Creature from the Black Lagoon said. "She's kinda hot."

"Dude, they're like, sixteen," Evil Clown retorted, appalled. "What's wrong with you?"

"I'm just saying, you wouldn't know it," Lagoon replied, attempting to excuse his remark.

"Ugggh," Zombie said, disgusted. "You give crooks a bad name."

So, this was what it came to. I was going to be the big hero, and now, I was just another bargaining chip while outside, one of the mutant girls was just waiting to swoop in and take the glory. Monkeyman, you truly have stepped in it this time.

-RHONDA-

There was a nip in the early November air this night. If this had been a slower night, I would have called it early and gone home for hot chocolate, crappy TV and a warm blanket. Instead, I was standing outside the bank on Oak Street while a hostage situation played out inside.

Part of our deal with Bridget was, in exchange for the free gear, we would be on call as special agents when needed. This time, it was my number that came up. I was considered the best for this particular situation because of my ability to shut all electricity in the building down at a moment's notice, giving me the cover to go in and swiftly take out a bunch of blind gunmen. There were still some serious risks involved if it came down to it, though, so we wouldn't be doing that until all efforts at negotiation were exhausted. Which meant… waiting. Lots and lots of waiting.

I was sort of hanging toward the back of the crowd, helping myself to a cup of coffee (the barista at the Moonpenny's across the street had been kind enough to supply the gathered law enforcement folk, which I suppose included your friendly neighborhood purple mutant). As the situation dragged into its second hour, I was wondering if anything would ever happen.

Growing bored, I edged my way through the crowd towards Detective Fuego, who was the officer assigned to the situation. "Is anything happening? I have school tomorrow. I can't spend the whole night here."

"It just got a lot more complicated, Joule," Fuego stated. "Apparently someone got it into their head to take matters into their own hands, which went abut as well as you could imagine. So, now, they have yet another hostage, and we've completely lost their trust since they don't buy that we didn't send him."

Behind my eyeshield, my eyes rolled. "Don't tell me…. It's Monkeyman, isn't it."

"Who else," Fuego remarked sardonically.

"Ugggggghhh." I groaned. Don't get me wrong, we all looked up to the guy when we were in grade school, but taking down the odd bully or low-rent thug was one thing, trying to thwart a well-planned-and-executed hostage scheme was something entirely different. I didn't want to get all "super powers make me better than thee" or anything, but the fact of the matter was that, in a situation like this, Monkeyman was simply in the way.

"In any case, they just demanded another million and there's no way the city's going to agree to that. In any other situation, we'd be forced to resort to tear gas; much as we don't want to har the hostages, it's better that they get a little teary than they get shot. But, luckily, we won't have to resort to that because we have you."

"Jeez, way to put the pressure on me."

"I'm just saying. You're our best option to minimize harm here, and while not everyone on the force is cool with you guys, I want you to know I am."

"Thanks, it's nice to know we're appreciated. So… what's the plan?"

"Well, we're going to tell him we're sending you away as a show of good faith. So, we're going to need you to be seen as leaving the area. Once the media confirms you're off the scene, because these guys are almost certainly following the internet coverage of the incident to keep track of what's going on, you're going to circle around and enter through the skylight, shutting down power first to mask your entrance." I'd been to the Oak Street bank before. It was a marvelous old building with columns, marble floors, and a lovely skylight that I was about to partially destroy. I hated breaking beautiful things, but alas, such measures were necessary on occasion. "Do you think you can approach the roof without being seen?"

I smiled. "It will give me a good chance to test this stealth mode that Bridget installed in my latest costume." That was another part of the Bridget deal; we were often her guinea pigs when it came time to test new gadgets. While the usual uniforms for her girls had a couple of built-in camouflage settings, this new one would supposedly read the environment and adapt to its surroundings on the fly. If it worked. This would be a hell of a time to test it, but drastic times… "Okay, let's do this," I said.

Fuego spoke into her walkie-talkie. "All right… as a show of good faith, I am asking Joule to disengage from the situation."

"How do we know we can trust you?" the ringleader spoke over the connection.

"This is Joule," I said into the speaker. "I'm leaving as of right now. I know you guys are following the news, you can confirm it yourselves," I said, taking off into the night sky. Once I got high enough and far away enough that I was out of the news copters' range, I circled around and descended back down to ground level several streets behind the bank, winding my way through the back alleys. When I got close, I engaged the suit's experimental stealth protocol. The suit's usual colors shifted to match its surroundings, giving me a weird see-through appearance so I looked like a floating head, tail tip, and pair of wings. "This could be a problem," I whispered to myself. "Is there anything we can do about this?"

"Extending costume," Bridgi stated. I felt fabric flowing over my wings, tailend, and lower face. Probably related somehow to the suit's ability to repair itself of minor damage. "Warning: Stealth mode will fail in one minute." Ah. So there was the downside. It was a huge draw on the suit's power cells, and while my own powers were good for recharging my cel phone, Bridget's R&D team used power cells that weren't compatible with my powers. Using the suit's fabric-replication ability probably didn't help matters either. Best move it, then. I quickly scaled the back wall and hoisted myself on the roof, shutting stealth mode down with a few seconds to spare. I quickly tore off the extra fabric restraining my wings (the tail wasn't super important, but I needed the wings. Bad.). Another thing I'd have to bring up at the meetings.

I looked down through the skylight. A lot of places in town had them, probably some fad at one time, but in this case it was really convenient. I reached out with my electro-sense – that's a thing I have, I can feel the flow of electricity around me – and willed it all to cease.

Showtime.

-MONKEYMAN-

"Looks like they kept their word. The mutant chick's gone," Mummy said, checking his phone.

"Huh. Well, how about that," Frankenstein acknowledged.

I was now seated with the rest of the hostages, who were attempted to edge away as best they can, due to my odor. Clearly, I was not the most popular one here. Not that it mattered. I don't do it for the popularity. I do it to help my fellow citizens. Which, granted, I hadn't been doing a lot of lately.

"Any news on our demands?" asked Evil Clown.

"The chick they got in charge says that there might be some time before they get the money together. She could be planning to stiff us, but I kinda doubt it at this point. Besides, I'd rather not have to shoot anyone." He nodded at me. "Although I doubt anyone'd miss this one." Talk about addng insult to injury. Not to mention potentially more injury.

Any talk of shooting was immediately interrupted when the lights abruptly went out in the building. It was a moonless night and the streetlights had cut out with the building lights, so it was almost pitch black in the bank.

"What in-" The words were barely out of Frankenstein's mouth when there was a crash and something plummeting heavily to the tiled ground. A shadowy, winged figure.

"They l-" was all Mummy got out before Joule's palm connected to his face. Even as he went down like a sack of potatoes, the girl was on the move, taking out another with a kick, a third with an elbow, a fourth with a fist. Five, six, seven, until only Wolfman was left.

Wolfman wasn't about to just go down without taking advantage of his ace in the hole, however… hs hostage. Me. "Stop right there, Grimace, or Monkey Boy here gets it!"

And I don't know if it was just that insult, the accumulation of them all night, or just my frustration at the utter failure of my superhero career, but that was the straw that broke the monkey's back. "It's MonkeyMAN," I spat, suddenly elbowing Wolfman in the gut. It didn't take him out, but it threw him off-balance just long enough for Joule to clear the gap and subdue him in a more lasting fashion. With the gangsters defeated, she released her hold on the building's electricity, allowing the bank to be bathed n light once more. "'Grimace.' Hmmph. He's not the only purple character, you know. You could have called me Amethyst. I'd be flattered," she grumbled. Clearly, she had not been in a good mood, and that hadn't helped.

"Well, everything worked out," I said hopefully. "I'm really glad we could work together…"

Her head snapped toward me. "'Work together?' From where I'm standing, I just had to rescue your ass from a situation you should never have been in!" She angrily poked me in the chest with her upper-left index finger. "What, just what, made you think that you would have been of any help here?"

And that was it. The fact that what she was saying was absolutely true, that I truly did have no business inserting myself into this situation, was irrelevant. I was done being taken for granted. Who was this… CHILD… to lecture me like this? I was fighting crime since long before she… well, I don't know just what her origin was, but I probably predated it. "I don't have to take this from you. If I hadn't been here-"

"-He wouldn't have had you for a hostage! In fact, if you hadn't decided to try to take things into your own hands, maybe we would have been able to resolve this without violence! But no, you had to be the hero. You had to shove your way into the situation you had no business being in, destroying the trust we built up, increasing the risk to the hostages. Did you think about that? No. You didn't."

Again. Everything she was saying was probably right. But ego demanded that I not back down. "How dare you. You think you're better than me because you have fancy powers and gear?"

"No… I think I'm better than you because I think before I act!" She rubbed her nose in frustration clearly trying to calm herself down. "Listen, I get that you've done good for this city. But there's a difference between stopping a mugger or a purse-snatching and dealing with a gang of well-equipped, well-coordinated criminals. You're not equipped to handle that sort of thing."

"And you are?"

"YES! Monkeyman… I think it's really time that you hang up your cape."

"But-"

"There are still a ton of ways you can help the community, if that's what you're in it for. This… isn't one of them anymore."

I wanted to tell her off, to put her in her place, but… once again, she was right. I had nothing to say to defend myself. All I could do was storm off silently. It later occurred to me that the police would have probably wanted me to stick around to give a statement, but there was no point dwelling on it. I just wanted to go.

-RHONDA-

"I don't know," I mused later. "Was I too hard on him?"

"I don't know, maybe?" Nadine suggested. I was back home now, after the criminals had been booked, the hostages released, and my statement given.

"Nadine!"

"Sorry, but he probably already felt bad about causing trouble. Maybe you could've just quietly thanked him for his help and moved on."

"Yeah, but-"

"I mean, this is the guy that saved Arnold from a mugger back in fourth grade…

"True, but-"

"And he got Eugene out of the sewer in fifth…"

"I know-"

"Oh, and there was the time he saved Sid's boots…"

"Fine, you made your point!" A part of me was mildly irritated that Nadine didn't have my back on this, but… can I really begrudge her for telling me something that I already kind of agreed with? "I… guess next time I see him, I should try to apologize… if I see him at all, that is."

"Does your dad still go to the museum with him?" Yes, this was a thing that once happened.

"I doubt it. I'm pretty sure Monkeyman's whole bon-vivant about town phase was a one-shot deal. Honestly, I think he sank even further into obscurity after that."

"Well… even if I never see him, I hope he realizes that I wasn't really mad at him… okay, a little mad, but mostly frustrated. And that he doesn't do anything drastic."

-MONKEYMAN-

As a rule, I don't drink. Monkeyman has a reputation to live up to, after all.

Had a reputation. Face it… I'm a joke. I'm a loser. A has-been. It was time for me to do what has-beens do.

"Gimme *hic* 'nother banana daiquiri, Bobo."

"I think ya had enough, Richie" Bobo suggested, shaking his head.

I grabbed him by the shirt. "I'll tell you when I've had enough," I insisted.

The barman sighed. "I knows youse is experiencerin' emotional turmoil, so I'll let dis violation of my personal space slide." He easily pried my hand off. "Lissen… don't let dat Jool goil get to yez. She prob'ly didn't means to be so harsh. Ya gotta admit, youse prob'ly wasn't cut out to stop a bunch o' terrerists."

"So now you're gonna *hic* start on me too?"

"Richie, kid… I known yez since you was in diapers. Yer a good kid. You means well. But Jool's right. Things is gettin' a lot bigger. It was only last July a flippin' alien from space trashed up my joint. T'ank goodness for insurance…"

Maybe it was the three drinks talking, but the last thing I needed from Bobo was this sympathy crap. "I was this town's hero long before she was… born? Hatched? Budded? Who cares…. Point is, she doesn't get to tell me what to do!"

"Richie, c'mon… calm down. I'll call yez a cab to take you back to yer aunt's…"

"I can get home on my own, thank you very much! I'm Monkeyman!" I declared, getting up, a bit shakily, from the barstool and staggering towards the exit.

"I don't get it," muttered Bobo. "Those was virgin daiquiris."

I was out the door now, making my way home, when my eye caught the sign next door to the Two O' Diamonds. House of Wonders, the marquee read. Had this place always been here? I didn't remember ever seeing it before. "Enter freely and unafraid," the sign on the door said. Something compelled me to take a step inside.

The place had a strange, otherworldly quality to it, and the wide array of odd knickknacks lining the shelves did nothing to alleviate that. A train lantern made of some sort of green metal. A book that seemed to have a human face stitched onto the cover. An old music box with three colored jewels set in the front. Each oddity odder than the last.

"Welcome." A voice suddenly spoke up from behind. Either I was drunker than I thought, or someone had just shown up out of nowhere. I turned, slowly to avoid the wave of nausea that would come with quick movements, and beheld the speaker, a tall, gaunt man in a red suit and top hat. With red hair and a pointy goatee. His ears actually looked a bit pointed as well, and there was something off about his eyes.

"I see you are perusing my stock," he said. "Has anything caught your fancy? I'm sure we can find something in your price range…"

"You're the devil, aren't you," I said. "You're gonna give me something amazing and it'll cost me my immortal soul."

"It's the suit, isn't it," the shopkeeper said to himself. "I knew I should have gone with the green one, but this just fit so well… Oh, never mind. No, I'm not the devil, and no, I don't want your soul. This is about capitalism… well, not late-stage capitalism, that does claim your soul, but- oh, you no what I mean. We just do normal business here. You give me your money, I give you stuff. That's the way it's worked for centuries, and I see no reason to stop now."

"You wouldn't happen to have anything for a down-on-his-luck superhero, would you?" I asked.

"As a matter of fact, I may have just the thing…" He took a circlet off the shelf. "The Crown of the Monkey King," he identified. "It grants phenomenal power. Wear this, and you will be a force to be reckoned with."

"Really?"

"Yes, though there are a few side effects, lossofinhibitions, misalignedmoralcompass, nothing serious…

"Huh? What was that?" I said, eyeing the crown.

"Nothing, go on, try it on for size…"

Alarm bells should have been going off in my head, but drinks and despair convinced me that I had nothing to lose. I placed the crown on my head. Immediately, I felt my body fill with unimaginable power. And my mind… my mind filled with possibilities.

When the surge ended, I took a look at myself. I now had the body of an Adonis. Bronzed skin, rippling muscles, flowing hair. And the tail I'd always wanted. I was the Monkeyman I always dreamed of – no. Not Monkeyman. Monkey KING.

"I think I'll take it." I said.

"Very good, now as to your payment options…"

"I said I'd take it," I said, lifting him off the ground. "Any objections?"

"Just one," he said, snapping his fingers. Immedately, the effects of the crown shut off and I was back to my old puny self. It was like I'd been ripped in half. I craved… no, needed… that power back. "Fail safe, you see. The shop's enchanted so I can immediately cancel any magical effect within its walls. You're not the first to get a bit… reluctant about paying, you know."

"Please…" I whispered. "I need this."

"Then let's talk price," he said smugly.

Well, here's the next chapter, and everyone can hopefully see it! The site seems to be working again, so I hope everyone enjoys it.

Monkeyman's real name is a tribute to his VA, Andy Dick.

Our mysterious shopkeeper makes another appearance, and no, he's still not the devil. We wil be seeing just who he is and where he comes from soon enough, and it'll involve characters from a certain show I've grown very fond of. I'll give you a hint: Hoot hoot!

Jose: Thanks, it was my first time coming up with a Gerald story, glad I did good!

Veganmama: Yep, factory farming is indeed very scary. Glad you loved the chapter!

Next time, on BODY ISSUES Z… the Monkey King hits town! See you then!