Hello again, and welcome to the August edition of The Autolycan. I found this story in Agence France Presse some time ago, and it sounded pretty bizarre to me. So I thought why not try something a little bit surreal this month? I hope you like Zoo Brew! - please pass it on if you do!
ZOO
BREW!
A
zoo in the freezing steppes of Kazakhstan is giving its monkeys red
wine to ward off winter colds, its chief animal specialist told AFP
on Friday.
The
zoo feeds the monkeys a kind of red Communion wine, making it more
appetising for monkeys by adding chopped fruit, honey, lemon, sugar
and hot water.
"After
all, primates are just like people. They enjoy drinking an alcoholic
drink, they like it. Some of them even abuse it, coming up to the
drinking trough several times," she said. -
Agence France-Presse
The landlord of the
Khazak Steppes leant his elbows on the bar of his pub and
looked slowly around him. He had just unlocked the door and the pub
was empty. The paint looked shabby, the furnishings were worn and
the carpet was frankly threadbare. He sighed. Through the cracked
windows he could see the frozen and unforgiving Khazak landscape, it
had gone down to minus 30 degrees last night and tonight was forecast
to be colder still. He sighed again. ‘Time I wasn’t in this
business,' he thought, ‘time to move on. Somewhere warmer.’ And
not for the first time he pictured himself running a tropical beach
bar somewhere in the Caribbean.
His reverie was
interrupted by a blast of cold air as the door swung open and a
couple of monkeys ambled in. He knew them as being from the zoo –
they often came in for a glass or two ‘to ward off the cold’ as
they put it.
‘Evening, lads’ he
said with a thin smile of welcome, ‘bit nippy tonight.’
‘Good evening, Mine
Host!’ cried the larger of the two monkeys with a giggle. ‘Can
you advise us? We are looking for something very quaffable with a
crisp, fresh and fruity nose, a heavy weight of citrus on the middle
tongue with notes of vanilla and peaches, and with a long finish. We
thought we might sharpen our appetites while we peruse your most
estimable Bill of Fayre........'
'A kind of ape-ritif!'
screamed the second monkey. They both howled. The smile grew
thinner.
'What have you got that
will tease and delight our palates?’
‘I have got’ said
the landlord lugubriously, ‘the usual. Cuvée du Patron. A full
red, with honey, lemon and sugar added. I’ve put extra banana in
specially. I think you'll find it gives it a more... erm... robust
character.’
The monkeys nodded and
sat down at an unsteady table while the landlord bustled around
fetching a couple of glasses of Cuvée from a trough at the back of
the bar. They drank, not unenthusiastically. ‘We’ve put the word
around at the zoo,’ the smaller one said ‘some of the other lads
said they might look in tonight. Could be a bit of a party like’.
He broke off to root eagerly in his mate’s fur. ‘Same again,
please. We thought we'd have a kitty....' he went on '…...but
they're not on the menu!' yelled the first monkey. They screeched
with laughter while the landlord drew a deep breath.
The door swung open
again and a pair of wallabies hurried in, leaving the door wide open
behind them. Grumbling, the landlord moved across to close it.
‘G’day mate!’ said the first wallaby, ‘Cold enough to freeze
the balls off a brass….’ but the monkeys were glaring
menacingly at him and he didn’t finish the phrase. He changed
tack. ‘Strewth! I could down a couple of pints of the Amber Nectar
without ‘em even touching the sides,' he bragged. It seemed to be
expected. The landlord poured two pints of lager, and the monkeys
had some more Cuvée. The rather curious taste seemed to be growing
on them.
A bell sounded from the
sun terrace. When the landlord didn’t immediately answer a polar
bear wearing sunglasses and with a beach towel draped over one
shoulder put his head round the back door. ‘Two pina coladas,
please,' he said ‘we’ll have them by the pool.’
‘Shouldn’t go out
there, sir, health and safety. Too slippery.’ said the landlord,
but took the drinks out anyway after the polar bear gave him a
withering and not wholly friendly stare.
The landlord returned
to the bar where a row was starting to break out between the monkeys
and the wallabies. The latter had tried, successfully, to wind up
the former by putting Daydream Believer on the jukebox.
Scarcely had he calmed the argument down when a group of Caribbean
flamingos strutted in and demanded rum punch, followed by some
Russian wolfhounds demanding vodka and two Japanese macaques who just
fancied a glass of saké. Surreptitiously, the landlord mixed some
rice juice with the Cuvée, which he then insisted was saké, the
macaques invited the monkeys to try a glass and the monkeys didn't
mind if they did.
The bar was filling up,
noticeably so when the camels came in and insisted that they wanted
nothing but water and plenty of it, and arguments were breaking out
over whether the heating should be turned to maximum with the windows
closed or switched off altogether with the windows standing wide
open. Trying to mediate this was not easy, especially when the
skylight started to rattle furiously as a giraffe tried to poke its
head in. ‘Guinness is off’ barked the landlord over his
shoulder, and a couple of Irish wolfhounds slunk out to go elsewhere.
By now, the monkeys were helping themselves to more Cuvée and
starting to sing raucously, which upset some rather timid lounge
lizards who were motionless under a table and staying as
inconspicuous as possible. Spotting them, the hyenas laughed
uproariously, which went unnoticed as the back door was flung open
again and several Emperor penguins came in from skating on the pool,
demanding something both fishy and alcoholic.
It came as a pleasant
surprise to the landlord when his offer of Bass was accepted,
although he should have realised that he would have to put up with a
string of wearisome puns along the lines of 'Oh, no, always makes me
flounder', 'gives me a hammerhead', 'no more for him, he's half
cuttlefished already' and so on. (Please feel free to add some more
of your own, but I have tried quite hard and there aren't as many as
you might think.)
The monkeys shrieked
again. The landlord chuckled dutifully, but years of experience told
him the mood tonight was potentially volatile – he needed a
diversion. Television. What was on the TV? Rugby. Hmm. Which
match was it? Just his luck – the Pumas against the Springboks.
There'd be a brawl in what... thirty seconds? Perhaps less. He
changed channels. The Dragons against the Wallabies. He looked
round nervously. They were mythical beasts, weren't they? There
couldn't be, surely.....
The rugby finished.
Adverts. They'd be safe, but then what?
'Over now to the KCOM
stadium where Hull City are playing Leicester City in the first match
of the new season. The Tigers against the Foxes.........' He dived
for the off switch, but the noise was getting louder and the
atmosphere more restless.
Music. Perhaps music
would keep the peace. He sorted hurriedly through his CDs. The
Byrds? The Eagles? Def Leopard? Surely the Beatles wouldn't start a
fight. He put the CD on, whereupon John Lennon immediately informed
the entire pub that he was a walrus. The back door was torn clean
off its hinges as the polar bears came storming back in in search of
a bite to eat.
The situation was
getting out of hand, and it was only a matter of time before someone
knocked over someone else’s glass, or took offence at the way
another animal was looking at his girlfriend. Soon, a scuffle broke
out and escalated quickly. Fur, feathers and not a little furniture
flew, and the landlord retired behind his bar to phone the security
company. They promised to send the bouncers round straight away and
contact the police immediately. They were efficient. Several
kangaroos arrived within minutes and laid into anyone they deemed to
be trouble makers. The remaining customers ran - or flew, or
slithered - for the doors and apart from the lounge lizards who had
remained motionless throughout, the pub was empty when the officers
of the law came wailing up in their squad car.
‘Dear oh dear oh
dear’ said the senior panda, taking out a notebook and licking his
pencil. ‘What seems to be the trouble then?’
'I can't make it out'
admitted the landlord, shaking his head, 'in fact, you could say I'm
quite.... er.... bamboo-zled.'
A shrill whoop from
outside told him that the monkeys were listening somewhere nearby.
The panda looked up sharply.
'Don't get funny with
me, son.' he said.
ANAGRAM CORNER
THERESA MAY, NEW PM
MY! TAMPERS ANEW, EH?
