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Interspecies Diplomacy

Stephen Heintz forgot to title this story

“A magic talking monkey! Incredible!”

It sighed. “As I’ve said several times now: I’m a chimpanzee.”

The human was bouncing with excitement. “Who cares? You’re magic!”

“I care? Chimps are smarter, we don’t have tails… It’s a pretty big difference.” The chimpanzee rolled its eyes.

“Can you grant wishes?”

“Sure, lots of ‘em. To people who don’t call me a monkey.”

The human stomped his foot. “So that’s it? I don’t get wishes?”

“That’s right.”

“You’re an asshole!”

“No, I’m a chimpanzee.”

The human reached for his machete. I can probably get a few wishes out of that paw, he thought.


Brendan and Stephen ignite their jetpacks and blast away from the plummeting, burning aircraft carrier.

“Burn hard!” snaps Stephen. “If we don’t break every speed record known to man, we’ll be too late to save President McDonnell!”

“And her orphan puppy farm,” agrees Brendan grimly. “Endangered orphan puppy. N-nuns.”

Stephen sighs. “Okay, just–cut it.”

The sky flickers to flat green; winches lower them to the floor. “Look, I’m no good at action improv!” says Brendan, unbuckling his harness.

“Well,” says Stephen reluctantly, “there’s always action romance improv.”

Brendan grabs him and dips him low. “Now you’re talkin’,” he breathes.