I walked, dazed, into the living room to see more of the same. Everything coated in flour.
I returned to the kitchen, only to be startled as a cupboard door swung open violently. Inside was Chip Dip, my pet monkey. He looked at me and waved his hands in a manner that seemed to say “ta da!”
“CHIP DIP!!!!!!” I Screamed. “YOU’VE MADE A MESS!!! I CAN’T TELL THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN THE KITCHEN AND THE LIVING ROOM!!! WHERE DID YOU GET ALL OF THIS FLOUR?! THERE’S NOT EVEN ROOM IN THE IN THE CUPBOARDS FOR ALL OF…
Chip Dip interupted my tirade by pulling a platter out from behind his back. On it was a roast duck, finely garnished with a succulent looking glaze. The monkey had been cooking all day.
“Chip Dip, you shouldn’t have,” I exclaimed in gratitude. He then handed me the platter. I smiled at him as I grabbed a leg of duck and put it in my mouth. I bit down only to chip my tooth. The duck was frozen solid.
“CHIP DIP!!!!” I Screamed, “YOU PUT THIS IN THE FREEZER INSTEAD OF THE OVEN!!!!”
I chased Chip Dip around the house for 45 minutes before he finally managed to escape out of an open window. The next morning, I awoke to the smell of apples and fresh cinnamon. I went downstairs to find Chip Dip, standing there with an apologetic look on his face. His arms were outstretched and in his hand was a fresh apple pie.
“For me?” I asked.
The monkey nodded, then smashed the frozen solid pie in my face, knocking me unconscious.