To whom it may concern,
I am writing to express dissatisfaction with my recent
purchase of your product, “A Barrel of Monkeys.” A barrel of monkeys has long
set the bar for fun, and after speaking with your representative over the
phone, I was assured that my expectations for comical antics would be more than
met. Since it was a special occasion, I decided to splurge and purchased your deluxe
package: a 55-gallon barrel packed to the brim with live monkeys.
Eight days later, the package arrived just in time for my tropical-themed
housewarming party. Upon opening the
barrel, however, I discovered several defects. First, the monkeys were in sub-par physical condition. Their hair was matted, and several of them
had had their eyes gouged out by the other monkeys. Their unveiling really put
a damper on the festivities. I had just started an impressive conga line, but
once my guests saw the monkeys, the room fell silent as everyone stopped to
gasp at the “poor wretched creatures.” And this was before I had even gotten to
the monkeys at the bottom of the barrel, which at that point were no more than clumps
of bloody fur.
In addition to the cosmetic issues, the behavior of the
monkeys that were still alive was also quite disruptive. The good-natured pandemonium I was expecting
from the product was anything but. They didn’t mimic human mannerisms, perform
acrobatics, or even attempt to play the cymbals I had provided. In fact, one of
the monkeys threw several of them quite maliciously towards my guests. The
sharp edges of the discs proved almost deadly when thrown with such force. It was clear that being trapped inside a
barrel for a week had not made these monkeys jovial. It had made them angry.
After the near beheadings, the party quickly deteriorated
into a state of violent chaos. The next few hours were a bloody blur of biting,
scratching, and ghastly shrieking. In the middle of the bloodbath there was,
however, a brief charming moment when the monkeys’ focus turned to the banana
piñata I had hung in the foyer. Dazed with hunger, they all raced towards it
with delight, and clumsily tried to unpeel it.
Silly monkeys. It wasn’t even a real banana! Of course when they
discovered this deception they became even more violent, descending in a rage
upon the nearest victim, my coworker Herbert, who feebly tried to defend
himself with a pair of decorative fireplace tongs. Herbert is still in the
hospital. His injuries have almost healed, but psychologically he has a much
longer road ahead. A road paved with simian night terrors and chronic zoophobia.
Eventually, animal control and the fire department had to be
called in to get the situation under control. I’ve spent hours scraping caked
feces off of my walls and carpeting, and believe me, rabies shots for my entire
party did not come cheap. But I suppose the outcome could have been worse. My
doctors told me that if the panicked monkeys hadn’t scratched at the sides of
the barrel during transport, their claws would have been much sharper and the
damage to my corneas would have been permanent. Also only two people died.
Nevertheless, I feel that the “fun” promised by your product
was a false claim, and I expect a full refund. I have enclosed the original receipt
along with the barrel and most of the monkeys (a few of them are still trapped
in my ductwork). Additionally, I feel I am entitled to a discount for a live
housecat, as the one I owned previously was dismantled and eaten by your
defective product.
