Jun 12, 200608:01 AMThe Life

Dances With Chimps, Scene 1

LT. JOHN DUMBELL (sitting in the sparse shade of an ocotillo): Cheetoe, we've journeyed long and hard to reach this godforsaken desert.
CHEETOE THE TALKING CHIMP (lounging under a nearby palm tree): Bwana, it's only a hundred miles east of LA. But... whatever.
FLIPPING BIRD (subtitled, lounging next to Cheetoe): Why doesn't he come in out of the sun?
CHEETOE: These crazy palefaces are heavily into S&M. Mostly M.
DUMBELL: Geez, it's hot. I'm gonna call this place Sweaty Palms.
FLIPPING BIRD (subtitled again): Did it ever occur to you that we might already *have* a name for our oasis?
DUMBELL: Doesn't matter. Here's a bunch of cash. I'm buying half this valley from your tribe, in a checkerboard pattern. It'll make swell golf courses. Let's drink some firewater, to seal the deal.
FLIPPING BIRD (still subtitled): Careful, Kemo Sabe. If you offer alcohol to my people, we'll offer your people blackjack.

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Nota Bene: This is satire. Or attempted satire. If you see any resemblance to real people—living, dead, or retired—it might signal the onset of sunstroke. Check with your aromatherapist. Alternatively, send us feedback!