Ben Hansen
"Yes, it was I!" he shrieked. "All these years, I have had to work day
in, day out, all so these poletariat shiteheads can enjoy their
precious bloody view! Do they give me a raise? Ever tell me I did a
good job? No! And yet, they give their freakin' monkey a goddamn OPAL!
I hated that monkey, it humped my cat to death. And despite all its
faults, they still loved it so much they gave it an opal to replace
the eye it had lost from syphilis! That's right, it contracted a VD
from screwing my cat! And yet, do they even throw a tube of ointment
my way when I contract herpes from an unnamed prostitute? I think
not!"
He paused for breath as the people in the room stared at him.
"That... was a lot of aggression," Grace began.
"You can be aggressive to my monkey anyday, baby," Hugh sneered at her.
"Can you please keep your hormones in order until after this whole
thing has been sorted?" asked Ben, and quickly followed it with "Did
you ever try to tell your bosses this?"
"I tried once, but they were so busy with their precious little simian
that I couldn't choke the words out," garden-boy replied.
"Monkeys aren't simians." Ben said.
"Well, in the future you'd best learn to express yourself in less
deadly ways," his employer, be it a man or woman, replied.
"Yeah, all right."
"Just one last question," Ben said. "How did you stab the monkey?"
"I made an ice dagger in my time off."
"Does the quality of the dagger matter?" Hugh asked, but nobody got it.
"An ice... Okay, but why not just use a knife like any normal person?"
Ben continued.
"Where's the fun in that?"
"Well, I can't argue with that. Take him away, boys!"
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