B.G. Hilton – Writer

Pulp Adventures 10: A Catastroph-ape

A pulp magazine cover, featuring a ferocious ape, located halfway up a skyscraper, dangles a man by his ankles. Two policeman watch from a lower window.

Cop 1: Oh no! That big ape has got another victim! We’d betta do somethin’!

Cop 2: Yeah, that’s easy to say. But we’re at the wrong window. We’re a floor down, and kinda off to the left.

C1: Our left or the gorilla’s left?

C2: We’re facing the same way, Frank.

C1: That guy’s in big trouble.

C2: Ya think?

C1: Gonna lose all his spare change, the way that monkey’s shakin’ him.

C2: Yeah, that’s it, Frank. That’s the problem. Ya hit the nail on the head, again. Spare change. Gone.

C1: Whaddid I do now?

C2: I just don’t think I you appreciate how serious this is.

C1: I dunno. It’s kinda funny if you think about it. I mean, how did that ape even get there? Why is he trying to peel that poor guy’s finger like it was a banana? Don’t he know the difference between a finger and a banan—Oh! Man, that’s a lot of blood.

C2: Yeah, well, being held upside down prolly ain’t helpin’. We should get to a closer window.

C1: We got a pretty clear view from here.

C2: Yeah, but what if we gotta do somethin’?

C1: We could shoot the ape with our guns, right? Well, you could. I think I left mine back at the station.

C2: We could do that, sure. But do you see the problem with that particular strategy?

C1: We might not have enough bullets to kill a gorilla? I heard you need at least eight.

C2: Well, that’s… What?

C1: Eight. And one gun’s only got six, so…

C2: You think there’s a specific number of bullets required to kill a gorilla?

C1: Yeah. Eight.

C2: You don’t think where you hit it, or what kinda gun…

C1: Ah, for the love of Pete, what’s the ape doin’ to that guy’s face?

C2: Don’t change the subject. You think there’s like some kind health bar over every living thing, and you need to hit it with the exact right number of bullets?

C1: The health bar or the living thing?

C2: Of course the living thing, genius, who shoots a health bar? Oooh, there goes his arm.

C1: Look, obviously how many times you shoot something matters, otherwise… Oh, hello.

Accountant: (entering) Hello, officer. Officers. What are you doing in my office?

C2: Well, sir, there’s a gorilla on the 15th floor…

C1: Hey, officers… in the office. Officers. Office. Sounds kinda the same.

A: The words come from a similar meaning. An officer is one who holds office, you see… Holy crap! What is happening to that man!

C1: We don’t got an office. We share a desk at the station, but it’s in a big, open…

A: That poor man! Oh, God what’s happening to him? Do something!

C2: Nah, nah, see when he says ‘hold office,’ it’s like a metaphor, see.

A: This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening!

C1: Hold on, hold on… That ain’t no metaphor. It’s a metonym.

C2: Are you friggin’ kiddin’ me? You think it takes precisely eight bullets to kill a gorilla, but somehow you know the difference between a metonym and a metaphor?

A: Give me your gun!

C2: Sir, you are a civilian…

A: Just give me the gun! I’ll shoot it myself!

C2: You might hit the man he’s holding…

A: You think he’s still alive? He’s like a bleeding rag doll, for God’s sake. If he is alive, shooting him would be a mercy!

C1: Now hold on, let’s not go down that path. The Pope clearly said…

C2: Ugh, we doin’ this again, Frank? You ain’t even Catholic.

C1: Yeah, but that don’t mean…

A bloodied gorilla arm reaches through the window, and pulls the screaming accountant out. Cop 1 and Cop 2 watch with mild interest.

C1: Well, the ape’s closer, at least.

C2: Yeah, there’s that. Saves us a walk upstairs, am I right?

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