Monkey-Business

Clive was a speedy little monkey. Today he knocked against his big sister as he raced along the tree branch, causing a banana to tumble out of her hands and fall to the ground. Frances was furious.

“I’ve had enough of you, Clive!” she fumed.

(And she had.)

“I am putting you up for sale,” she announced.

Clive didn’t like the sound of this. Not at all.

He couldn’t understand why Frances was so cross.

Or why she always grumbled when he barged into her nest to say hello.

Or tried to join her when she was playing with her stick-toys.

Or jumped on her for hugs. ALL THE TIME.

So Frances made a sign out of tree bark:

FOR SALE: ONE LITTLE MONKEY!

Eats anything, sleeps anywhere, smells of banana.

Make me an offer!

Frances set the sign next to the tree they lived in. She then ordered Clive to wash his face and clean his hands.

She thought he looked very smart.

And… well, maybe just the tiniest bit cute too.

Two hornbills swooped down from a nearby tree. They cocked their heads to read the sign.

Frances beamed.

Clive flapped his arms to imitate the birds, and chuckled.

“Is he strong?” the hornbills bellowed. “Our wings can’t hold heavy things. We’re putting in a treehouse for our chicks and we need help carrying branches.”

“Oh yes,” said Frances, thinking of all the times Clive had carried her stick-toys when she was too tired to do it herself, “and he’s super helpful.”

Just then, a tigress strolled out from behind the trees.

“Is he good at making things?” she chuffed. “I struggle because I don’t have thumbs and I want to build a shelter for my…