The Monkey

A monkey lives in the tree near my bedroom window. It jumps across to my roof sometimes and talks to me. "You're an idiot," he says to me often.

He doesn't mean it of course. I'm smarter than the monkey and he knows it. I've got 4 A-Levels. He's got no formal education. "I went to the University of Life," he tells me.

The monkey doesn't like Bon Jovi. "If Jon Bon Jovi came into my tree, and tried to eat my bananas, I'd be like, 'Get Out! Get out of here you MOR mullet-rocker! Or, I'll hurt you! I'll hurt you bad!'"

The monkey also doesn't like moustaches. "I used to live in a tree next to the house of a man whose surname was Beard," explains the monkey. "Except he had a 'tache. I mean, what the fuck?"

Sometimes, the monkey wears clothes. "I was inspired by the PG Tips adverts. I like bowler hats and hot pants."

"Everyone likes hot pants," I reply.