Travis Goes Bananas

OK, I have a confession to make: I think I'm a bad person. Not "Battlefield Earth" bad, but bad enough. What has driven me to all this self-flagellation? What could cause such dark introspection and self recrimination? The answer is simple - a crazy chimpanzee.

Unless you're a character on Lost who decided to stay on the Island, or some crazy rich celebrity who has his news carefully edited for him, you must have heard about the former celebrity chimpanzee who went nuts.

How could a story about a former celebrity chimp who went crazy make me a bad person? Because I cannot read or watch anything about what was, in actuality, a horrific event without breaking into fits of uncontrollable laughter. Even now, I'm starting to giggle just writing about it.

On Monday, former Hollywood animal superstar Travis the Chimp was given a mild sedative, Xanax, which caused the usually good natured 200 pound simian to literally go "ape-shit", and savagely attack his owner's friend. So frenzied was the attack that Travis ripped off the poor gal's face and both of her hands. Travis was chased by police, and eventually shot dead. Looks like his days of riding tricycles, smoking cigarettes, and ripping people's faces off are over.

This is awful, right? Nothing funny here, correct? Nothing to see here folks, keep moving along. I can't control it. It's like comedic kryptonite for me. I'm terrified I'm going to overhear someone talking about it at work, setting in motion fits of uncontrollable and inappropriate laughter.

Now, some of you may, with some justification, ask the question; "How would you like it if a former Hollywood chimpanzee superstar took a Xanax and ripped your fiancee's hands and face off?" Well, I wouldn't be able to respond, because I'd already be falling into fits of uncontrollable laughter. But it gets worse.

I was starting to get over my childish reaction to this terrible tragedy when yesterday Fox News released the 911 tapes. For most people, this made the event even more horrific. For me? It caused all the self-control I had managed to muster to come crumbling apart like a stale Dorito, and restart the vicious cycle of monkey giggles all over again. Here's an excerpt:

Travis can be heard grunting as she cries for help: "He's killing my friend!"

The dispatcher says, "Who's killing your friend?"

Herold replies, "My chimpanzee! He ripped her apart! Shoot him, shoot him!"

Truly, there must be something wrong with me. I try to soothe my guilty conscience by reminding myself that I help people with addictions and deliver meals to seniors, but that's little comfort when I start to chuckle every time Fox posts a new update on the terrible Travis tragedy.

At last reading, the Associated Press is reporting that Travis appears to be a repeat offender. Leslie Mostel-Paul claims that in 1996 Travis bit her hand and tried to pull her into a moving vehicle. Crazy little monkey bastard. See? There were even early warning signs this chimp was bad news.

I guess this is kind of like that scene in Pulp Fiction when Vincent accidentally blows the head off the guy in the back seat when the car hits a bump. Everyone in the theatre was laughing nervously, because they felt a little guilty for laughing at all, even though the scene was meant to be funny.

Not sure how to wrap up a post that deals with chimps gone bad, except to quote Charlton Heston when he uttered that immortal line from Planet of the Apes;

"Take your stinking paws off me, you damned, dirty ape!"

Cordially

Joe