Steve the Monkey: Rollerblades, Hotdogs, and Complete Chaos

Dave was your average guy in a small, quiet town. He had a decent job at the local hardware store, a predictable routine, and a somewhat underwhelming social life. But one day, as he was flipping through the local classifieds, something caught his eye.

The ad read: “FREE PET MONKEY—MUST BE ABLE TO HANDLE CHAOS.”

Now, Dave had never considered having a monkey. He was more of a “dog person,” but the idea of having a pet that was free was intriguing. And the mention of chaos? Well, chaos had followed Dave around his entire life, so what’s one more wild thing? How hard could it be to care for a monkey, anyway?

Without a second thought, Dave picked up the phone.

The woman on the other end was surprisingly chipper. “You’re looking for Steve, right? I’ll have him ready for you in an hour.”

An hour later, Dave found himself standing at the door of a small, somewhat strange house, awaiting his new companion. The door opened, revealing an elderly woman with an aura of calm. “Here he is,” she said, motioning to a crate beside her. Inside was a monkey, chilling like it was no big deal. Dave was suddenly hit with the realization that he might not be fully prepared for what he was about to get into.

“Steve’s special,” the woman continued, her eyes twinkling with what Dave now understood was both affection and a hint of warning. “He likes to have fun. Good luck!”

Dave, unsure whether he was getting a warning or a farewell, took the crate and drove home, all the while wondering what exactly he was getting himself into.

The moment he opened the crate, things got wild. Steve, the monkey, shot out like a cannonball, immediately clinging to Dave’s shoulder with a surprising amount of strength. Dave felt a weird mix of panic and awe. “Okay, buddy, let’s start slow,” Dave muttered, trying to gently remove Steve from his shoulder.

But Steve wasn’t having it. He chattered in what Dave could only assume was some kind of monkey language, then grabbed a banana peel and threw it directly at Dave’s face. Dave wiped it off, trying not to laugh at how ridiculous the situation was, but Steve was just getting started.

The monkey proceeded to throw the house into utter chaos. He upturned every cushion, swapped all of Dave’s shoes around, and found the only jar of peanut butter in the house, which he used to decorate the kitchen wall. Dave watched in helpless amusement as Steve proudly stood on top of the counter, making what looked like an art installation out of peanut butter and random kitchen utensils.

“Okay, okay, this is fine,” Dave said, though his voice was shaking a bit. “We’ll just... take a walk.”

Now, taking Steve on a walk was a decision Dave would later regret.

They headed to the local park, where Dave hoped to introduce Steve to the outside world in a peaceful setting. He was not prepared for what happened next.

As they walked along the path, Steve suddenly stopped, his eyes locking onto a small dog in a sweater. Without any warning, Steve screeched like a banshee and sprinted toward the dog with the kind of focus a predator gives its prey. The dog, horrified, started running in circles, barking loudly. And just like that, a full-fledged dog-panic ensued, with every dog in the park joining in, circling in a frantic, barking frenzy.

Dave, flailing and yelling, tried to grab Steve, but the monkey was already ahead of him, now skateboarding down a hill with two dogs in tow. And then—just when Dave thought things couldn’t get worse—he saw the rollerblades.

Somehow, in the middle of all this, Steve had found a pair of abandoned rollerblades at the edge of the park. With the finesse of a professional skater, Steve strapped them on, stood up, and began zipping around like an absolute pro, dodging trees, performing what could only be described as pirouettes, and somehow managing to steal a hotdog from a food cart while gliding by.

Dave was completely dumbfounded. “What... what even is this?” he muttered, completely powerless to stop the chaos unfolding before him.

In a final act of defiance (and truly absurd genius), Steve jumped onto a pigeon, riding it like a steed, flapping its wings in a panicked escape. The crowd around them went wild, cheering like this was some kind of circus act, which, in Dave’s mind, it very well might have been.

Eventually, Dave managed to wrangle Steve back to the car. Steve, proud of his antics, casually ripped off the rearview mirror and handed it to Dave with a smug look on his face.

Dave, now covered in peanut butter, banana peels, and various hotdog toppings, stared at the mirror for a moment. He didn’t even know how to feel. “I’m gonna need a vacation from my vacation,” he said, starting the car, knowing that life would never be the same.

And thus, Dave learned one very important lesson: never trust a monkey with rollerblades, hotdogs, or the ability to turn any situation into an unpredictable disaster. But hey, at least Steve was never boring.