The Helper Monkeys Saga

by Spencer Gilbert

In a thinly veiled attempt to divert funds from Berkeley’s unwanted stepchild, the Gender Studies Department, every currently enrolled student has been issued a live “helper monkey” to assist with day-to-day tasks. The included instruction pamphlet claims that the monkeys can be trained for hand-feeding their masters, bathroom assistance, various forms of massage, and “really anything a toddler or impressionable retard could be taught to do.”

So far, the idea has been well-received by the student body. Said one, “I named mine Dr. Bibbles, and he is certifiably a_dor_able.” The student then turned to his fidgeting monkey companion and screamed “BIBBLES PLAY!” Bibbles proceeded to play with a tiny monkey-sized hacky sack, pausing only once for a beating when his owner felt that he wasn’t “giving 110%.”

Consensus on campus seems to be that our new monkey helpers are a great timesaver and healthy outlets for repressed rage and sadism.

by Spencer Gilbert

It’s been only two months since the Cal Bears Helping Hands MonkeyLink program began, and already some students have grown weary of
their assistants’ standard functions. No longer
content with the typical routine household chores, some have trained their monkeys to perform tasks previously unknown to lower mammals. Unsurprisingly, coming in first in our informal student poll was auto-fellatio. These days in Berkeley, the sight of self-blowing monkeys is as common as that of self-blowing homeless people.

Other students have trained their monkeys to
imitate their own behavior. Tasks such as stealing beer, chewing food, and vigorously masturbating into the backpacks of enemies have been outsourced to their tiny monkey helpers. Some worry that the rapidly escalating intelligence of the monkeys will result in a listless student body incapable of working without animal assistance.

“That is foolish,” replied one monkey. “There is
nothing to worry about.”

by Spencer Gilbert

The bite-riddled arms and heads of missing Berkeley students Danny Iwamoto and Allyson Perez
have washed up on the banks of Strawberry Creek. Autopsies of the victims were inconclusive, although student doctors at the Tang Center have speculated that the cause of death was most likely “bad vibes.”

Examiners were left puzzled as to the origin of the tiny scratches and teeth marks covering both bodies.


It has now been four months since Monkey
Independence Day, previously known as Arbor Day.

Those of us who weren’t bitten or scratched to death in the first wave now know the horrors of the banana mines and the sting of our monkey overseers’ whips. We all also know the pain of struggling to explain to our monkey oppressors that bananas cannot be mined, and then good-naturedly accepting the rain of feces that follows.

And then, of course, they make us report for grooming, where they beat us mercilessly and unmetaphorically. This must stop. Hopes are high that our new helper possums will help us overthrow our simian overlords.

Join us behind the tire swing and the little fake log in Human Cage Six after lights-out.