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Rated: ASR · Short Story · Sci-fi · #428858
A mad scientist experiments with a new weapon on a gorilla with surprising results.
I can’t remember the name of wise man that once said, “You can find love in the most unlikely places. But you’ll never find it with a gorilla in a tutu.”
If I ever meet the person who said that I would buy him a drink then punch him in the kisser.

I look back on that odd furry experience with great ambivalence as I ride a fence where there are apples on one side and bananas on the other. All these years later I still cannot make sense of it.

The last time I saw her I had begun to walk out of her cage and had stopped at the door to say my good-bye. I found that my gaze lingered on the large primate decked out in her finest ballerina wear. I wondered how long it had been since she was able to fit into it properly.

Nevertheless I had to admire the sentiment. For just a moment I was painfully self-conscious of my inadequate human frame. I worried that she might of thought I was less of a man. But then she had put on her finest tutu for me and so my fear was without substance.

It goes with out saying that love between interspecies is heavily frowned upon. And I heartily agree with that sentiment. So you must understand that she was no ordinary gorilla. No she was as special to me as a first love is to any species.

Do not entertain the concept of love at first sight for never such a thing could happen between a man and a gorilla. Maybe you’re starting to understand that there was something very unique and special about Gertrude, or as I fondly called her, Gertie my love monkey.


It was a day made for animal testing and amorous cosmic activity. I had just completed my field-testing of my Hyper-Gizmo-ma-Gadget-tron. In my white lab coat and safety goggles I jotted down the results of focusing the Dangling Participle Beam on an ant mound in the labs garden. “Yes the ants seemed to be irritated by the Dangling Participle Beam.” Hmm? I thought ants would be immune to it as they had been immune to my Prepositional Phase Beam.

The development of my Hyper-Gizmo-ma-Gadget-Tron had been my latest success. It had been intended to deploy multiple beams. Everything from the Dangling-Participle-Beam to the Lethal Subatomic Blubber-Blaster had been calibrated in the Hyper-Gizmo-ma-Gadget-Tron. It was my latest research offering for my company-Space Weapons R U.S.-

Space Weapons R U. S. had a massive defense contract and I thought if I created a weapon where I put everything in-including the kitchen sink-would be a good selling point to the Defense Department.

I had been given free reign to experiment by shooting anything I thought worthy, hence my current experiment on the anthill.

I remember the day I tested the Subatomic Blubber-Blaster on an elephant seal. I noted that the elephant seal made a sound similar to uproarious laughter. However I was confident that it wasn’t laughing and that if a soldier found himself under attack by an elephant seal this weapon would surely serve as a deterrent, and therefore save the soldiers life. I felt pride realizing that if our soldiers encountered an elephant seal in space, and knowing how mean space creatures are; a space elephant seal would be very dangerous. Therefore I believed my invention would save many spacemen’s lives.


That day on my drive home I dreamt about how I would spend my millions from my new invention. I had always fantasized about being a chicken rancher. Getting up at sunrise to milk the chickens then chopping their heads off had always appealed to my childhood fascination with farmers.

My drive took me past the city zoo. On a whim I drove through the gate and shot the gatekeeper with my Hyper-Gizmo-ma-Gadget-Tron setting on “Great Googley-Moogley-What-In-The-Hell-Are-U-Shooting-Me-With-Beam?”



I had a moment of inspiration, while listening to the radio announcer advertise the zoo’s new arrival. Gertrude the Gorilla.

Few, if any, have the great analytical mind that I have, and therefore I do not expect many to make the quantum leap in reasoning that I had. And that was; if my weapon worked on a Gorilla then surely it would work on big hairy space aliens.

Shortly I found Gertrude’s cage, where the gorilla had been in full siesta mode. I thought that Gertrude was quite hansom for a gorilla. Then I shot her with the Hyper-Gizmo-ma-Gadget-Tron setting on the “I-Have-No-Idea-What-This-Is-Going-To-Do-Beam.”

To my dismay I observed that the only reaction this invoked was a great toothy yawn as Gertrude stretched her massive torso. So I recalibrated my weapon to a higher setting and blasted the slumbering primate again. Frustratingly Gertrude smacked her huge lips stretched suggestively then yawned passionately. She then turned on her side snoozing away as if she were sleeping beauty.

I remember stomping my foot in disappointment which caused me to slip on a collage of discarded banana peels that were in varying stages of decomposition. My reflexes prompted me to use my Hyper-Gizmo-ma-Gadget-Tron to steady my self, which resulted in the experimental weapon going off and blasting me in my head.

The next thing I remembered was awaking from a deep sleep. I had been dreaming about garter-belts, silky milk chocolate, and being handcuffed by a statuesque female State Trooper. I resisted waking but I soon realized that, though I had a pounding headache, my head was being cradle with great tenderness and someone was caressing my face. At that particular moment I couldn’t recall feeling more content then at that moment.

However my gargantuan intellectual mind filled with many questions. Though I felt great curiosity my eyelids responded sluggishly as they slowly opened.

Starring into my face were two huge liquid eyes filled concern and affection. The eyes stared with such captivating intensity that I could not look away. And because of the selfless sympathy and care I saw, I did not want to look away.

Those two gigantic loving eyes shimmered and soon I could hear The Temptations song, “Just My Imagination” echoing in my head.

“It was just my imagination.
Once again.
Running away with me.
It was just my imagination
Running away”

“Soon we’ll be married, and on our own.”

I actually began to hum the tune out loud. Then I felt a caress of my face. It was that physical touch that brought me back.

I shook my head like a dog trying to dislodge an ear mite.

I then realized that it was Gertrude who had been cradling, and caressing my head. At first I was repulsed, as I noticed her thick and voluptuous lips and her wide flaring nostrils adorned with fine black fur. Despite my harsh reaction she continued to hold me.

My repulsion could not overwhelm the cozy sense of security and compassion I had allowed my self to wallow in. And really, now that I thought about it, Gertrude reminded me of Helen Bonham-Carter when she was in “Planet of the Apes”. I know she was a chimpanzee, but if Mark Whalberg could kiss a chimpanzee well then I could at least be a friend with a gorilla. Right?

I sat up turned and faced Gertrude and held her hand. She responded by holding my hand in both her massive tender palms. We shared a silent moment where I contemplated the humbling lesson I had just learned.

The lesson, one of greed and arrogance where I shot a slumbering gorilla in order to make millions for my beloved chicken ranch, was an age old lesson that has been passed down through generations of sleeping primates, headless chickens and mad scientists who understand the importance of blowing up space aliens.

I knew then as I looked into Gertie’s large puddle-like eyes, that if space aliens ever attacked earth she would do her best to beat them up. A tsunami of emotion washed over me as I looked upon Gertie with true love. And not weird farm-animal love, but weird zoo animal love.

I then stood up and picked up all her discarded banana peels and threw them in the trash receptacle. It was then that she sashayed over to her corner and put on her ballerina tutu. I felt a lump in my throat from the pride I felt. I imagined the fear she would strike in the hearts of the attacking aliens when they looked upon Gertie in her tutu.

As I started to leave, Dionne Warwick’s song “I Know I’ll Never Love This way Again,” began to run through head.

It was then that I knew what I had to do. I returned to my car, where just for fun, I shot the gatekeeper again, but with the Subatomic Blubber-Blaster-Beam. I then yelled at him for neglecting Gertie’s cage, and frightened him telling him that when the space aliens came, neither Gertie nor I would save him.

That was the last time I saw Gertie. I had returned to work at Space Weapons R U.S. where I had succeeded in my both of projects.

Yes my Hyper-Gizmo-ma-Gadget-Tron was purchased by the Defense Department. They were still considering the purchase of my Space Warrior Tutu. I had explained to them the psychological devastation the space aliens would experience when they first saw our soldiers each armed with Hyper-Gizmo-ma-Gadget-Trons, dressed in Kevlar Warrior Tutu’s. And the result would be a resounding victory for earth.

The first thing I did with my millions was buy Gertie a tutu that fit. I also hired a new gatekeeper with the understanding that he would pickup her banana peels.

Sadly, despite my millions, no one comes around to clean my cage.


© Copyright 2002 zane olesen (enazwo at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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