Peter Gabriel - Shock The Monkey

A time ago…

If Winter meant cold and decay, the feeling of losing someone dearly, then Spring meant awakening, a chance for the new seeds to be born. Moominvalley looked absolutely gorgeous at this time of year, the snow melted to reveal a path of watered green grass, the fallow lands were slowly growing the crops of a future harvest, and warmer summer days were about to come.

Why do men want to possess everything? Snufkin thought to himself as he arrived at Moominvalley. He had a strong dislike for people who felt it was their right to own everything at their reach. That's how Snufkin became the number one menace of a Park Keeper and his very strict rules within a very limited piece of land. It's forbidden to step on the grass, it's forbidden to stay in the sandbox after evening, it's forbidden to collect flowers, it's forbidden to plant flowers, it's forbidden to yell, it's forbidden to cry, it's forbidden five thousand other things... Some of these rules made sense, and others made no sense at all, as if the world got so complex that people passively allowed themselves to put rules where once there were none, and to be ruled by the same rules.

A world without rules is chaotic, Snufkin agreed, but isn't a world with too many rules chaotic as well? Was there any possible way to be free from this abstract dictatorship imposed over centuries? There was no option left for him other than to borrow as little as he could. Having too many rules to obey made life complicated, as much as having too many things to borrow made life complicated as well. As a traveller, Snufkin explored so many places, but he never asked for anyone's name or the names of places he visits, what matters is the journey rather than the destination, and his enjoyment along the way.

It was time to come back to Moominvalley to see his friends again. And, before he could hear a single bird sing...

— AAAAAAAAAAH! – Snufkin's ears were greeted with Little My screaming in agony. It was as if her foot got stuck under a big rock, which felt very unlikely, but after hearing that grievous sound, Snufkin had no thoughts other than quickening his steps to reach for Little My.

— What... What happened? – Said Snufkin, out of breath and confused.

— Sniff bit my ankle! – Said Little My, lying on the ground and squirming like a worm being hit by sunlight.

— And I'll do it again! – Sniff yelled, keeping guard with a broomstick as he watched over a giant wooden cage filled with plenty of little kids. Snufkin thought they were kids at first, but as he came closer, they were actually plush toys, which did not make things any less weird. – Let's see... 72, 73, 74, 75...

— That's really odd, Little My. – Snufkin said, smiling. – Usually you're the one who bites.

— I can be nice if I want! – Little My crossed her arms and frowned at Snufkin. – Unlike Sniff. Where are his manners?

— Quiet, please! Or I will lose count. – Sniff demanded, as he kept counting numbers. – 80... 81... 82…

— What's the deal with him, anyway? Biting people... – Moomintroll shook his head, aware that his friend was out of his usual humble self.

— All because of some toys? – Snorkmaiden couldn't ignore the tension. In fact, Sniff looked so serious it was maddening. He held the broomstick as a pointy spear and walked around the cage as a castle guard keeping its treasure safe.

— What did you say? Some toys!? – After noticing Snufkin, Sniff raised his voice. In one hand, he held the infamous broomstick, and with the other he held a plush toy made in his own image. – 96, 97, 98... 99... 100! A hundred in total!

— Impressive. – Snufkin could not keep count of how many Sniff plushies he saw, in fact he was feeling quite dizzy from seeing too many Sniffs at once.

— I crafted, planned, sewed and worked hard enough to make a single plushie! – Said Sniff, marching around the cage. – Now, don't expect me to sell "some toys" at all for free!

— But he looks so cute! – Snorkmaiden said, pointing at the plush toy.

— It takes time to come up with artificial cuteness. – There was something funny about Sniff holding a little Sniff, and something threatening as well in his sight and tone. – A hundred little Sniffs were made. Think about how much time I lost, time that will never come back, and I demand something back in exchange!

— And what you want is money, right? – Said Snufkin. He didn't care that much for worldly belongings.

— Yes! YES! I'm just asking for money, isn't that simple? – Unlike Sniff, who is a very serious businessman selling his products.

— Is it? – Little My replied, sarcastically.

— Of course! – Sniff tried his best to not look silly while speaking. – You give me money, I give you a Sniff. I make more Sniffs, you buy more Sniffs, I earn more money to make more Sniffs. Simple!

— But... Why would I ever buy a Sniff? Do I buy something because I want it, or because I need it? – And so Snufkin and Sniff's philosophies clashed once more.

— You can only buy a Sniff because no one else makes Sniffs like me.

— Why not?

— Because I own them.

— Why do you own them?

— Because I made them first.

— Why did you make them?

— I made them to be sold.

— And why are you selling them?

— Because they are my property.

— Your property?

— Yes, my intellectual property, and I have exclusive rights over distribution, publishing and advertising. All of the profit goes to me.

— You are not that much of an intellectual. – Little My interrupted, still feeling mad about the bite from early.

— But why do you want money? – Snufkin brought more questions, driven by his curious inner child. – And for what purpose did you make the Sniffs you're selling?

— Because I can't sell my Sniffs without it. And we all need a Sniff in our lives! – Sniff giggled.

— I already have one, and at the moment, he looks pathetic. – Once again, Little My expressed her feelings. She had a lot of things to say, but they were not very polite coming out of a child.

— Well, I also made them with the purpose of getting rich. – Said Sniff, as he rushed near Moomintroll and pulled him away from the cage with the broomstick. – Sorry Moomin, but first you'll have to pay me in order to get one of my beloved Sniffs.

— And why do you want to get rich? – Moomintroll asked, standing on Snufkin's side.

— To buy the things I like. More and more things.

— Which things?

— Things like, uh... You can find a lot of stuff being sold on Moominvalley. For example... I mean... A lot of stuff, so much I can't even think! – Said Sniff, who looked confused and not so sure of what he was saying. – Oh well, when I get rich enough, I'm gonna travel all around the world and buy stuff that ain't here yet.

— Uh huh... Do you like those Sniffs you made? Or were they made only to be sold? – Snorkmaiden couldn't deny the effort of her friend to make little plush versions of himself, but she also questioned if it was really worth it to pay for it.

— Why... Of course! They were made with love. And pain. And sweat. You can have one if you want, but first... Give me your money. – Sniff extended his palm to Snorkmaiden, but all he got was Little My's spit. – Eugh! Gross.

— There is plenty from where it came from! – Little My offered a devilish smile. That was too kind coming out of her.

— Anyway… – After cleaning his hands, Sniff once more announced his products, in hopes that his advertising techniques would attract customers. He held a book in one of his hands, and his toy in another, as he raised both in the air and screamed. – By buying one of my plushies, you also get a copy of my autobiography, "Sniff: The Untold Story"! It narrates my life from when I was a baby until now!

— Sigh… How come you remember stuff from when you were a baby? – Little My asked but she was completely ignored by Sniff's unpleasant yelling.

— You also get a copy of the previously unreleased "Sniff in November"! It's a bit sad, but still a good book, though it may not be available in all countries because I may lose the rights over them and therefore no money goes to my pockets! Pant… – Said Sniff, running out of air.

— But you don't have pockets! – Moomintroll said, infuriated by his friend's behavior.

— Soon! – Sniff said, as tears of joy shed from his eyes. – Soon I'll have pockets to carry my money, then I will have more pockets to carry more money, then a bank to store all my money, and my own bank, and a collection of banks, and the whole world shall be my bank!

— Hello everyone. – Suddenly, Mr. Hemulen came walking with his magnifying glass. He carefully analyzed the flowers, the grass, the trees, and soon his vision came in contact with the plushies made by Sniff. – Huh? What's this... Don't you think you are too young to be a father, Sniff?

— What!? – Sniff exclaimed. – They're not my children! Well, in a way they are, but not really, uh...

— I see. Did your cousins cause a lot of trouble to be put inside a cage? – Hemulen said, fascinated by the newfound specimens he discovered.

— They're not my cousins. In fact, they are-

— Interesting. – Before Sniff could complete his sentence, Mr. Hemulen interrupted him, gazing with awe and wonder at those little creatures he found. – Wait… They are not moving, not blinking, not saying anything. Oh no... They are not breathing. I must rescue them!

— No, Mr. Hemulen! No! DON'T! – Sniff thought about using his broomstick against Mr. Hemulen, which felt immoral and wrong to be used against an old man, but before he could do anything he'd regret forever, Mr. Hemulen opened the cage.

— You are free! Free at last! – As soon as the cage was opened, Mr. Hemulen found himself buried within a pile of Sniff dolls.

— Mr. Hemulen, are you okay? – Moomintroll asked, to which Hemulen raised his hand and offered a thumbs up.

— I'm fine, kids. I'm fine… – Mr. Hemulen's voice was faint, but he seemed okay at least. That was the price of freedom, he thought.

— They are my creation. – Sniff came near Hemulen and picked up his homemade plushies one by one, putting them back inside the cage. To prevent anyone from stealing his toys, he also went inside the cage and stood there like a mother goose laying upon her eggs. – My best creation. It took me days so I could make their eyes look like mine, days to make their skin as soft and fluffy as mine, days to measure their ears, their size, their hands, their feet, their nose...

Sniff was so moved by his own speech that he held one of the dolls as a skull being appreciated by an artist, while the others were held captive at the will of their creator. For him, it was the most beautiful thing ever since Moominmamma's pancakes. He made that thing, he was really proud of being the one who came up with a hundred versions of himself, and the first one who'd be selling them by the pound.

— I'm not giving them for free... Not after the struggle I went through... No one will have it unless they buy it, that's how it works! Nothing is for free, and my dedication wasn't in vain. Rather than losing time and earning nothing, I lose time but I earn money back AND EVERYONE IS HAPPY! I AM HAPPY! HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY!

Everyone stared at Sniff in silence, Hemulen included.

— Sometimes you are so dramatic it's painful. – Little My left a visceral comment.

— Don't be harsh with Sniff. I know he can be annoying, but it's clear he's suffering. – Snufkin said as he approached the cage, in which Sniff found himself as a prisoner. – Is there something bothering you, Sniff?

— You don't understand anything about trade. None of you do! – Sniff said, covered by dozens of copies of himself. It was both comfortable and painful.

— And you don't understand that we're kids and that we're supposed to have fun while playing! – Said Moomintroll, who felt guilty after saying such harsh, but truthful words.

— Yeah, I know… – Said Sniff, who let out a weary yawn.

— Then what's with you behaving like this? – Snufkin stared at Sniff, who acted like anxiety as a living being.

— Let's see... – Mr. Hemulen looked all over Sniff with his magnifying glass to find out what was wrong with the poor creature. – Uh huh... Uh huh… I can say for sure it's an internal problem.

— A heart problem? – Snorkmaiden asked, unsure of what to do to make Sniff feel better.

— No, it's more complicated. Your fellow Sniff is like a butterfly who broke one of the wings. – Hemulen said, reaching a conclusion.

— Well, excuse me! But I haven't created these toys only for the sake of creating something to be proud of. – In a way, Sniff pictured himself as a king sitting on a throne, in search of a money tree. Proud, yet completely lonely. – It's just that... Have any of you ever felt this way? That life itself is not worth living?

— Sniff, if you mean...– For a moment, Snufkin was worried that Sniff had other thoughts in mind, but it was not the case.

— No. That's not what I mean. I want to live as much as I can. Maybe... it must be. Life becomes futile, repetitive, we never get to answer life's mysteries the way it should, and therefore, we get bored, tired of living, but that's what we do, right? We live. Well, not forever.

— I hate when Sniff is depressed. He's one of the most cheerful beings I know. – Little My said, sharing a soft side.

— Do you remember the comet? – Sniff asked.

— Yes. The comet... – Moomintroll gazed with contemplative eyes at the clear blue skies, and his ears were blessed with the chirp of birds flying above and the sound of insects crawling below.

— I do remember. – Snufkin also remembered when a comet almost crashed at Moominvalley. To think every little thing that made the world such an amazing and wonderful place to live would be gone with the landing of a dirty snowball… – It was the end of the world as we knew it.

— When that comet came, I thought "We're done for, this is it", but here we are, living. – Sniff's words were tainted with sorrow and a kind of out of place nostalgia. – When the entire Moominvalley got flooded, I thought "We're done for, this is it", but here we are again, living as usual. When we almost became a Groke meal that night, I thought "We're done for, this is it, goodbye and good riddance", but here we are, with no bite marks or scratches left. See, the things I felt back then, about not being here with my friends anymore, the fear of the skies cracking down, of being haunted by monsters and not making it... What if something happens and I'm not here anymore to share those stories with my friends? What if I lived this long only to disappear without leaving anything behind?

— That's not true. – Said Snorkmaiden, in hopes of taking Sniff out of the cage he put himself in. – Even if you're gone, we'll still have fond memories of you. No one in this world simply vanishes as if they never existed.

— Thanks, but… Is that enough? – Sniff stared at one of his plushies and saw a reflection of himself in one of their eyes. – I refuse to be simply a memory! My business is not just about selling Sniffs. It's about my soul, which I can't sell, but… Imagine a character that lives more than the author itself. A character whose stories are tied to their author, both transcending through time and generations to come, something beyond a memory... ain't that wonderful?

— Wonderful, indeed. But Sniff... What good is it to keep a treasure within a chest that will never be opened? – Snufkin said. – When you guard something you control it. That's the work of a tyrant, don't you think? And tyrant is the least of words I'd use to describe you.

— I really hit my head to come up with everything, and I'm not getting anything at all? – Said Sniff, who despite his friend's support, still felt like he hit the bottom of the well. – You want me to sell this entire stock for free? Are you crazy!? I had to think hard to come up with these little guys, time that will never come back…

— Should the time we've spent together come back as money to be worthy? – Said Moomintroll in a broody way.

— Silly silly saliva… sassy shear near… Ska pop, sa pum, sa po. – It was then that a young, little Fillyjonk walked nearby, singing incomprehensible lyrics on her own.

— Who's singing? – Moomintroll asked, as he looked behind and saw a familiar figure. – Oh, Tretta… isn't that one of Mrs. Fillyjonk's children?

— It sure is. – Said Little My, who could not resist making a snarky comment. With the way Mrs. Fillyjonk's family walk together, she once thought they were a hive mind rather than beings on their own.

— Pa pa pa, pa pa pa pa pa pa… Pa pa pa, pa pa pa pa pa pa… – Tretta kept singing, while ignoring the overall gloominess that stood upon everyone like a dark cloud on a sunny day. This until she stumbled upon a rock. – Ouchie!

— Are you okay? – Moomintroll and Snorkmaiden came to help the fallen Fillyjonk.

— Huh… That's a different rock. It did not hurt as mom said it would. – Tretta said, taking away the dust from her dress as she held the "rock" with her hands. – It's fluffy, it has ears, and… Eyes? Staring at me!? AAAAAAH! The rock is so mad at me it came back to life!

— That's not a rock, you silly. – Said Little My, after Tretta screamed and ran away only to hide behind Snorkmaiden. – It's one of Sniff's plushies that fell out of the cage.

— A plushie? Oh… – The Fillyjonk came near the plush toy that frightened her at first, but after checking it in a thorough manner, she found it to be rather adorable. – What was it doing inside a cage? Did it commit a crime or something?

— Not really. It's complicated. – Mr. Hemulen scratched his head. So far, he has witnessed a series of unrelated events and bugs.

— Hey, mister! Mister! – Tretta said as she approached the cage where Sniff laid inside. Without any warning, she pulled Sniff's tail to get his attention. – Mister, are you okay?

— No, I'm not. – Sniff replied, and just as he turned his head to the little Fillyjonk, he saw that plush doll in her hands. – Hey…

— Is this yours? – Tretta asked.

— Yes, but… – Before Sniff could say anything, he left the cage's shadow to take a better look at his plush in someone else's hands.

— Poor thing looks hurt.

— No, it's not. It's just a toy.

— Did you make it?

— Yes, I did.

— And you made a lot of toys?

— Uh huh.

— Can I have it? – Despite the short amount of time, he could tell Tretta grew attached to the Sniff plush she found in the way.

— Well…You have to pay for it. – Said Sniff, fiercely taking away the toy from Tretta's hands. He did not mean to be harsh, but business is business.

— Here. It's all I have, mister. – Tretta flipped a shiny object she found in her pocket that fell in Sniff's hand.

— The first customer, we never forget. Wait… W-What is this!? – It was not a coin, to Sniff and everyone else's surprise.

— It's a butterfly cocoon. A golden one. – Said Hemulen, staring closely with his magnifying glass.

— I've seen a few of these during my travels. – Said Snufkin, who walked alongside his friends to stare at the cocoon. – They're very rare.

— And beautiful! – Snorkmaiden's eyes gleamed in amusement. – Like an oyster's pearl.

— Neat. – Little My said. – Where did you get one of these, Fillyjonk Jr.?

— I found it under a tree's dead leaves. – Said Tretta in a mournful cry. – The pupa of a butterfly that never hatched… I don't want it, though. It's all yours, Mister Sniff.

— Oh… Thank you. – Sniff hesitated for a moment. He felt it wasn't right for him to be given such a gift, but he too could feel that Tretta did not want such a morbid, yet gorgeous creation of mother nature. With a dramatic pose, he hands the toy to the young Fillyjonk. – Take him. It's yours.

— Yay! I'll call him… Cedric! – Immediately, Tretta held the plush in her arms with a tight embrace. As the little girl walked away, Sniff cried. – Thank you very much, Mister Sniff.

— Thanks. – Said Sniff, waving his hand until the Fillyjonk disappeared in the green fields. – Say… What am I gonna do with the remaining stock?

— Isn't it clear already? Share it with the others, and they will share something back. – Snufkin replied. – You fell prey to your own ego, to your own emotions, yet I feel there was never any meanness in your actions.

— Aside from, you know, biting my hand! – Little My interrupted.

— My apologies. – Sniff said, as he shaked hands with Little My. – I was out of myself.

And, at the end of the day, Sniff has sold more or less than twenty of his precious dolls. He got a few coins, but nothing else to compare with the butterfly cocoon given by Tretta. That very object had so much meaning and mystery, yet it felt ordinary as well. Anyone can find cocoons in any tree, but golden ones are rare to be seen. Anyone can spot butterflies, sometimes they appear all of sudden, upon a flower, hiding from the rain, but dead butterflies are placed in walls by collectors, anything dead is collected or ignored or buried so a new life grows.

— What am I gonna do with this cocoon? It sure is beautiful, but I don't want it. – Said Sniff in deep thought, as he held Tretta's gift, an object of burden, a lucky charm, it could be anything other than a cocoon now that it fell in his hands. – What about selling it? Nah, I can't… When the time comes, I'll share it with someone else. There are things one can't keep to themselves.

From a distance, Snufkin watched his friend's silhouette blend with the landscape, as sorrowful clouds filled the red skies. There were times the inhabitants of Moominvalley simply did not behave like people, but instead, they let their very emotions shape their personalities and embody their whole characters. It made no sense, like the time Sniff fell in love with a girl, or when Sniff thought he was in hell, or when Little My built a sand sculpture of the Groke, or when the Inspector's nephew arrested everyone, or when Mrs. Fillyjonk smelled Moominmamma's decoction and she thought she could smell Spring in the air… the list goes on.

Snufkin has tried their best to make sense of everything. However, there are exceptions in which certain things can't be seen or properly analyzed, they just need to be felt.