I didn’t take long to find the best means of escape. After all, we were surrounded, oddly, by the wall of bark and the lifting hands of leaves, and so my knowledge told me to head upwards, to the sky of simultaneous sun and stars.

As I scrambled, my mind reeled, thinking about running, running around thinking. I was determined not to be captured by some crazed athlete.

Unfortunately, David was of the same mind. That is, if you replace the passive sense of being captured by him doing the capturing. Of me. He made his way to the bottom of the tree we had climbed and attempted to scale his way up it himself. Of course, that idea didn’t bring fruit, but David’s confidence and newly-founded hatred of me gave him enough excuse to stand shouting at the bottom.

And, from the sound of it, he was summoning his men to bring a chainsaw.

Frantic, I continued climbing, letting the rough, brown hands find their way innately. I was new to this, but the paws were not!

“Ellie, we need to get to the top of this tree,” I told the starfish clinging to my fur. “From there we can calculate where to turn next. Can you see a good hiding place?”

“I don’t like heights,” she sung in a stilted semibreve.

“I’m sorry, but this is really important. You mustn’t let a little fear distract- ooh, bananas…” I mused, turning my sights to the clump of bright yellow curves that were tossed in the breeze. My acute sense of smell lunged at the fruit seconds before my body itself did.

By now, David and the footballs were just dots in the distance of the football gorund. It was only their voices that kept Ellie and I aware of their still-existence. Luckily, by the sounds of it, a chainsaw had not yet been bought, the nearest B ‘n’ Q (so I heard) being about a mile away, or whatever that was in kilometres.

“We’ll get you in the end, strange monkey-girl!” he yelled with a voice already so hoarse that he was starting to sound like the homonymic animal.

In fact, as I beheld the football player from the safety of the sunset, his whole body mutated, being dragged downwards towards the ground as his own head expanded, lengthening as a large brown snout appeared from it. Ellie and I were laughing in tears. That is, if monkeys and starfish can actually cry. I don’t think so, but it’s irrelevant, especially as I couldn’t perceive my own face in that time.

However, thoughts were heard, solidly forming in bubbles that sprung from my ears and mouths silently. As the horse below us, once known as David Beckham, continued snorting and raving, a mirror grew from the bananas I was eating, showing my the full face of a ‘monkey-girl,’ indeed…

The End

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