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“I know this is going to sound strange, but I was being chased by a monkey.”
Flack stared back at the man in front of him, and wondered, briefly, whether or not he actually wanted to go down the road the man was leading him and ask him to repeat what he had just said. He knew he was going to have to, especially if this was going to wind up being a case, but he still wasn’t sure that he wanted to. He took a deep breath and looked up at him again.
“A monkey, sir?”
“I know it sounds really strange, but—that’s what happened. I don’t know how else to put it do you.” The man shrugged, an incredulous look on his face. “I was chased by a knife toting monkey covered in blood.”
Flack’s eyes widened slightly at that, and he reached for his memo book slowly, flipping it open to a blank page. He could already tell that this was going to be a really, really long day.
“Why don’t you start from the top?”
The man gave a heavy sigh before nodding. “I was walking out of my apartment when I heard this screeching noise behind me. So I turn around and there’s this monkey covered in blood sitting in the middle of the hallway with a knife in its hands. So, naturally, I start to back away from it, and as I’m doing so it starts advancing on me. So I start moving backwards a little faster, it starts coming a little faster—eventually I’m running towards the elevator, and he’s running right behind me, screeching his head off, and he’s still got the damn knife in his hand. I quickly get on the elevator, and the doors closed before he could get on.”
“I see. Did the monkey seem like it was going to harm you?”
“I’m sorry?” the guy said, giving Flack a look. “He was covered in blood and had a bloody knife in his hand. Of course it seemed like it was going to harm me.”
The man was giving a Flack a look that said ‘And what planet were you born on?’ Flack just shook his head, and looked back down again at his memo book. Of course a New Yorker was going to run from a monkey wielding a bloody knife. A New Yorker would run from a four year-old wielding a bloody knife.
“What’s the address for your building?”
“Why do you want to know?” the man replied, suddenly looking defensive.
“If there’s a possible homicide involved, we’re bound by law to investigate,” Flack replied, giving the man a look.
“Oh—right.” The man then proceeded to ramble off his address, and when he was finished, he sat uncomfortably in front of the detectives for a moment. “Is there anything else you need?”
“No—no, that should be fine,” Flack nodded, before the man got up and left the precinct. Flack dropped the memo book back down on the desk in front of him, and rubbed his eyes slightly, prepping himself for the really long day ahead.
The things he did for this job—
528 words
Flack stared back at the man in front of him, and wondered, briefly, whether or not he actually wanted to go down the road the man was leading him and ask him to repeat what he had just said. He knew he was going to have to, especially if this was going to wind up being a case, but he still wasn’t sure that he wanted to. He took a deep breath and looked up at him again.
“A monkey, sir?”
“I know it sounds really strange, but—that’s what happened. I don’t know how else to put it do you.” The man shrugged, an incredulous look on his face. “I was chased by a knife toting monkey covered in blood.”
Flack’s eyes widened slightly at that, and he reached for his memo book slowly, flipping it open to a blank page. He could already tell that this was going to be a really, really long day.
“Why don’t you start from the top?”
The man gave a heavy sigh before nodding. “I was walking out of my apartment when I heard this screeching noise behind me. So I turn around and there’s this monkey covered in blood sitting in the middle of the hallway with a knife in its hands. So, naturally, I start to back away from it, and as I’m doing so it starts advancing on me. So I start moving backwards a little faster, it starts coming a little faster—eventually I’m running towards the elevator, and he’s running right behind me, screeching his head off, and he’s still got the damn knife in his hand. I quickly get on the elevator, and the doors closed before he could get on.”
“I see. Did the monkey seem like it was going to harm you?”
“I’m sorry?” the guy said, giving Flack a look. “He was covered in blood and had a bloody knife in his hand. Of course it seemed like it was going to harm me.”
The man was giving a Flack a look that said ‘And what planet were you born on?’ Flack just shook his head, and looked back down again at his memo book. Of course a New Yorker was going to run from a monkey wielding a bloody knife. A New Yorker would run from a four year-old wielding a bloody knife.
“What’s the address for your building?”
“Why do you want to know?” the man replied, suddenly looking defensive.
“If there’s a possible homicide involved, we’re bound by law to investigate,” Flack replied, giving the man a look.
“Oh—right.” The man then proceeded to ramble off his address, and when he was finished, he sat uncomfortably in front of the detectives for a moment. “Is there anything else you need?”
“No—no, that should be fine,” Flack nodded, before the man got up and left the precinct. Flack dropped the memo book back down on the desk in front of him, and rubbed his eyes slightly, prepping himself for the really long day ahead.
The things he did for this job—
528 words
