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Dave Fragments

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Monkey Men From Mars

May 25, 2009

ACT ONE

Sweat covered Gary Loopers' body. He pulled his damp t-shirt over his head and dropped his basketball shorts on the floor. Gary stood naked to the blast of cold air. Sean's pet, Mombe, a young male bonobo about five feet tall snatched the shorts, sniffed them and wrapped its arms around Gary's leg. He jumped as hairy hands fondled his privates and felt up his butt other. Gary grabbed the Mombe's wrists and pulled with all of his might.

"God damn these fucking monkeys are strong as hell. Fucking sex-crazed, hairy bastard." Mombe's muscles rippled under its fur. "It's this fucking jungle. Who'da thought working in a fucking rainforest on the north shore of Lake Mai-Ndombe in the middle of Africa in the summer was fun? Get this perverted beast off my body." Sean pulled Mombe off Gary's leg and hugged the monkey.

"Mombe's just saying hello. It's his nature. Bonobos copulate like we shake hands." Sean clucked at the primate and wagged a finger at Mombe. The bonobo chattered like a small child.

"Fuck you and your hairy pet. Fuck these full-body costumes. It's hot as fucking hell and 100 fucking percent humidity. What do you do, gay boy? Snort our sweat stink to get off?" Mombe slipped into a corner to hide. "This place is a shit-hole and that beast stinks like a monkey. Fuck the world." Gary turned his wrath on Nicholas, his stuntman partner. "What kind of a dickwad gets us jobs as extras in a stinking jungle, in the middle of fucking summer, wearing fucking wool monkey suits, swinging around fucking trees like we're fucking Tarzan with fucking perverted monkeys grabbing our asses? Did ya ever?" Gary paused and glared at Nicholas. He needed time to think up more complaints. Nicholas didn't give him the chance.

"Fuck you, you whiny titty bitch. We're getting almost a million Euros each month we work. Do you wanna know what I think? Do you? I think it's too rich to pass up. So therefore that," he flipped his middle finger into the air. "and your little doggie, too." Nicholas Ghaller, boyhood buddy, stunt partner, bon vivant at 24 years old and self-proclaimed pimp, pissed off his best friend once again.

"Did you just fucking call me a whiny titty bitch? I am not a whiny titty bitch! You got three fucking neurons in that greedy vacuum-filled head of yours and all they fucking say is money, money, money."

"Will you two stand down. You're both bumping your gums like silly gits. You sound like an old married couple with a bad case of hives." Sean Govan-Creightan, the makeup man, spent six hours each morning listening to their nonsense while putting them into makeup. The two stuntmen never stopped hacking at each other.

"And what's it to you, gay boy? You going to teach Simba there how to throw shit at us? I got news for you; he already knows how to throw shit. He's got an arm like a rocket launcher." Sean picked up a fake fur costume and sniffed. It smelled like rotted kimchee and foot fungus.

"Yeah, the crew said he hit you at 100 yards," Sean patted Mombe's head. "Good aim, good aim." Mombe eeked and ooked his approval.

"Wankpiece! I hope you and your monkey die of crotch mange. Blow it out your ass sideways," Gary yelled. Sean threw down his putty knife, took Mombe by the hand and nearly left the tent. Nicholas pulled him back. Nicholas looked like a steroidially-enhanced muscle moron, however, he understood contracts and business deals.

"He shouldn't take it out on you. Other film companies use green screen and digital effects. This director insists on locations for this atrocity." Sean turned back in to the tent, pulled up a wooden folding chair and sat backward, legs wrapped around the chair. Mombe imitated him, dangling his genitals over the edge.

"Does he have to fucking do that?" Gary waved at Mombe. The monkey murmured to himself and rocked back and forth. Sean stood up and stepped behind the chair. He pulled his t-shirt and dropped his shorts and sat like Mombe. His naked body was thin and sinewy, far from the muscularity of Gary or Nicholas. Even Mombe's furry body looked muscle-freaky by comparison. Mombe chattered his approval.

"Because he has no shame and neither do I. Get over your hang-ups." "I have a proposition to combat the heat. If you want to hear it, get naked and sit like the monkey." Sean tapped his fingers on the top of the chair and gave a stern look to both Gary and Nicholas. Gary and Nicholas turned the chairs backwards, undressed and sat with their legs spread and their genitals exposed. Mombe purred. He liked when they played imitation.

"I spoke with the director and he spoke with the money people. They're married to the jungle. It's an ecological selling point. Not only that, they want the monkey men as accurate and authentic as possible without computer generated effects. You guys are good, but the dailies look like shit. It's the heat, the costumes and the comparison to the bonobos popping up in the background. They threw at least two weeks of work in the trash. I agreed with their assessment. There's one way for you two to look like the monkey men from Mars and not suffer the heatstroke or look like men in furry suits. But it requires sacrifice."

Mombe played with his penis and Gary squirmed. "Aw there goes the cock-knocker again." Nicholas slapped Gary's arm and narrowed his eyes to get him to shut up. Sean took Mombe's hand and held it still. Mombe grabbed Sean's genitals and rocked on the chair. Mombe liked playing imitation.

"Hey dude, spank your monkey later. Time's a wasting. What kind of sacrifice are you talking about?" Nicholas demanded.

"Now you're in a hurry?" Sean back-talked . Mombe sat still, studying Nicholas's expressions.

"Sure, we got tea and scones with Bonny Prince Charlie at three," Gary snarled. Sean rolled his eyes at Mombe.

"I can save you from going through the daily hardship of hours and hours in makeup. I can make you look two look like Martian monkeys without makeup. "

"Us? Look like chimps? First, we're too big and second, if you haven't noticed. The asshole is desperate to force perspective to make us look smaller. It won't work. Second, we're not hairy. Our faces are not pulled out like your monkey's face. How do we look like one without makeup and fur suits? How do you get past that?" Nicholas asked.

"Easy. A simply adjust your DNA and your bodies will grow fur and resemble the lower primates. Listen close. The genetic difference between humans and bonobos like Mombe is about three percent. Genetic researchers at the Sorbonne isolated the purely physical differences, such as hair and skeletal structure from the mental processes like speech and thought. Our brains make us human. Our bodies are just vessels to hold our brains. A second group of researchers in Britain and Kinshasa devised a genetic retroviral treatment that restructures the human genome. Once activated, the virus transforms the physical parts of the human body into a facsimile of a primate body while keeping the mind and brain intact. Your bodies will assume the hairiness and external structures of primates, bonobos to be precise, but your minds will remain humans. You'll have Mombe's resistance to heat, his black skin, his fur, plus the long-fibered muscles and skeleton. You both know how much stronger he is and yet you two outweigh him. Another benefit for you, brachiation will be easier with his skeletal structure and your intestinal systems will let you live off the jungle. Simian digestive tracts tolerate more jungle stuff than we could ever hope to acclimate to. All I need to do is fasten silvery Sailor Moon headbands to you and viola, you're the monkey men from Mars."

Nicholas slid his feet forward, leaned on the back of the chair and considered the proposition. "This retrovirus transforms our bodies so we look like monkeys and doesn't change our minds? How do you know that?"

"Before I took this job, I was working with the Sorbonne. They put two researchers into Borneo to study groups of orangutans. The transformed researchers were readily accepted into the baboon social structure and supplied verbal, written and computerized reports. I wanted to stay there, but I needed money."

"And you can change us back?" Nicholas asked the big question. Sean nodded.

"I can show you pictures. The guys in Borneo retained red hair." Sean lied. The researchers were still orangutans. "I'm only suggesting this for your benefit. Once transformed, you won't have the daily drudgery of makeup, stinking costumes or pretend wiring harnesses. You can just act your parts. No daily makeup sessions. No fake fur. No fake feet, more realistic movements, shoulders suitable for swinging on vines, better gymnastic moves, and stronger monkey muscles. I'm guessing that with your height and muscle mass, you'll even be a match for any primate even the silverback apes. You'll be strongest of all the primates." A laundry list of lies.

"But, we'll look like apes." Gary rubbed his chin.

"Well that's the point to make you two look like Monkey Men from Mars. Bonobos have their own language. They're vegetarians. And they're constantly horny." Nicholas started to interrupt Sean, but Gary held his hand up to keep him quiet. Sean continued. "There's no chance of anything going wron."

"Does the director know about this?"

"The director wants the cast to believe you really are alien possessed monkeys. He's willing to double your fees and pay in advance if you do this. He wants you to live with the bonobos and learn Martian monkey movements. That's his words. I have no clue what Martian monkey movement means. My guess is that you two have enough acting experience to make him think it's authentic."

"The script doesn't say that," Gary said.

"The director's getting revisions to fit disembodied aliens taking possession of monkey bodies so it fits into the storyline coherently. Personally, I think it's Turkey City drivel but it's aimed at 13-year-old boys and given enough action and destruction, it'll make money. My makeup will win awards. You'll be in demand for stunt roles." Sean waited. His heart thumped in his chest. Gary and Nicholas looked from him to Mombe and back to each other in silence. Gary leaned forward and stared at Mombe's arms and legs. Mombe returned the stare. Gary rubbed the top of Mombe's head and Mombe popped a boner and chattered, happy as a clam. Gary stood, pulled Mombe to his feet and hugged him. Human and primate hands explored each other.

"You're going to temporarily alter our bodies until we resemble Mombe?" Gary asked, grinding his hips against Mombe's hips.

"That's the idea," Sean lied a second time.

"Not so fast. Only if the banks verify the deposits," Nicholas cut off any argument about money.

"Mombe always reminded me of those short, blond, gymnasts with the squeaky-voices that infest the high schools we visit. The critter's buff, strong and horny and horny just like a teenage boy."

"Just the muscles. Those boys never had testicles the size of billiard balls or gave handjobs to say hello," Nicholas slid his chair back and shook his head disapprovingly. Mombe nibbled at Gary's neck. They humped until they both made it. Then they flexed just to show off.

"This beast's hot to trot. Better yet, he tolerates the temperature. Those suits are going to us." Gary held his arms out and let Mombe hug him. They smelled like animals but so did everything else in the jungle. Mombe licked Gary's bare chest. His tongue was huge and hot. "Tell the man we'll do it. But we need our bank to verify the deposits."

Nicholas tried one last time to change Gary's mind. "Look, we can wait for signed contracts. We don't have to rush into this," Nicholas said.

"I trust Sean. He'll verify the monies. Let's do it. The faster we get to filming, the faster we get done," Gary muttered. He rarely changed his mind.

Nicholas sighed and shrugged his shoulders. "I'll bet you can’t wait for us to start knuckle-dragging alongside your pet monkey. When do we change?"

"Right now, if you want." Sean smiled at them.

"What's your role in all of this? " Nicholas asked.

"I'll be your go-between with the director."

Gary and Mombe still held each other tight, their hips moving in unison. They both moaned. Sean nodded towards the two.

"I tried that dance with Mombe once. He nearly broke my ribs. Gary might survive," Sean stared at their mutual masturbation.

"Go-between?" Nicholas asked, again.

"You two guys can live in the bonobo cluster or clan or union or whatever it is that Mombe's been living with. It'll be safe with a group. I'll don't mind staying out in the jungle. We'll sleep in hammocks high in the trees to avoid the big cats. Each day, I'll get the instructions a day or two ahead from the director or the second unit. Then I'll explain the work to you two." Sean got up and went to a metal locker. He retrieved a hypodermic from case and loaded an injection. Nicholas leaned away from the needle.

"Not like you weren't prepared. You qualified?"

"I'm a physician's assistant in my other life." Sean administered the shot. Mombe and Gary's moaning and grunting drew their attention. They watched the two bodies strained with raw strength and animal sexuality. In a few minutes, they slid to the floor exhausted and breathing heavy.

"Premature ejaculation?" Nicholas asked.

"Not for Mombe. I've seen him stick it in twenty, thirty bonobos a day and still shoot loads that would make most men cry. All you guys are so horny. Don't you jerk each other off?" Sean answered.

"We're not fucking gay lovers. We might give each other a hand job now and then but we're not gay."

"I'm stunned. You're talking stupid shit and I'm stunned. It's so gay to give your partner a hand job for relaxation. But monkeys don't have that hangup." Sean got the hypodermic and knelt next to Gary with an alcohol wipe. "Gimme your arm," he took hold of Gary's free arm, swiped it and plunged the needle into Gary's triceps.

"You coulda waited for me to stand up," Gary whined.

"Why? Mombe's not finished with you. My monkey likes 'em tasty and rank. In a few hours, you'll understand." Mombe motioned for a shot but Sean wagged his finger negatively. He pointed to his lips and Gary's sploogy crotch. Mombe chattered and eagerly licked Gary clean. Gary moaned and squirmed as the huge tongue lapped at his tender manhood.

"When he's satisfied, go pack your belongings and leave them in my tent. Be fast. Wear Speedos and stay away from the booze. Your change will start in less than an hour. By tonight, your bodies will be furry and tomorrow, you'll be bonobos. As for an excuse, tell the crew that we're going swimming in Lake MDombe," he ordered. Niocholas glared at Sean. Gary felt Mombe wrap both sets of furry arms and legs around his body in a sixty-nine position. The bonobo's head bobbed up and down over his crotch.

"But I have close friends in the crew... Yeow!" Gary yelped. He grabbed at Mombe's head. His tongue was either too good or his teeth too sharp. Mombe slicked his hair back as he released Gary and moved away. He curled around Sean's legs. Sean petted his furry shoulders and barked an order at Gary.

"I don't care. Don't go boozing! You're banned in most bars in Kinshasa and Kinsangani. I don't want you backing out thanks to some foul-mouth asshole you thinks want to have an in-depth conversation over one last beer. Go pack and meet me at the lake." Gary and Nicholas grabbed their shorts and cleared out.

Sean lifted Mombe's head with his hand and looked him in the eye. "Looks like we got us some hot new primates, Mombe. Big strong ones. They'll teach you wrestling and you can teach them sex while I'll teach them obedience. If this succeeds, we're taking over the world," Mombe shook his head affirmatively and mimed a shot in his arm. "or at least the rainforest."

"It's the last one. You might regain speech but that's the limit," Sean said. Mombe nodded his head in agreement and let Sean give him the injection. The he jumped happy and smiling, a very human smile. The rumors circulating among the cast and crew called Sean, "Mombe's pet human," said they were lovers, and accused the pair of vile, unnatural behavior. The cast and crew didn't know that Mombe was once human and they never imagined that Sean didn't want to be human if Mombe couldn't be human, once again.

Both human and monkey pulled on yellow Speedos and set out for the lake. Mombe liked imitating men.

ACT TWO

Sean and Mombe splashed in the waters of Lake Mai-Ndombe. Gary and Nicholas spotted the makeshift flag of two yellow Speedos flag and walked to it, yelping and jumping, picking their bare footfalls gingerly. Their walk had a bowlegged aspect to it. They wore baggy shorts and not Speedos.

"You fucking bastard. You didn't say our fucking nuts would grow as big baseballs." Nicholas yelled over the calls of the jungle. Mombe laughed and somersaulted.

"I said 'wear Speedos.' You have to learn to trust me."

"Speedos are for skinny twinks who get a thrill showing off their dicks," Nicholas growled. He dropped his pants and the reason for his funny walk was immediately apparent. His testicles were the size of baseballs. Sean laughed and Mombe waved his testicles at the pair. Nicholas flushed. "Bastards, it's not funny. I'm growing a hairy foreskin and my dick's an oversized carrot." Nicholas flipped him the bird.

"How do you walk around the dung? Everywhere I step there's a dung pile. It's stuck between my toes and I hate it. It feels so fucking funky," Gary looked like a ballerina tiptoeing through the turds. Sean smirked. He and Mombe showed off their dungless feet.

"Soft tissue changes first. You're progressing normally. Forget the dung and you won't step in it. It's a Zen thing. Everything around here was once dung, is dung or will be dung. That includes you and me. Embrace the dung and become one with it."

"How do we ignore the ground we walk on? Float?" Gary leaned back on a fallen tree. Sean studied the silky black fur growing out over their bodies. They crossed their legs trying to hide their enlarged genitals. Sean noted more changes to their transforming bodies -- the bigger ears, rippling muscles, narrowed shoulders, thicker arms, massive shoulders and pectorals.

"You can't be ashamed of your body or your nakedness. Shame is human. When in Rome, do as the Romans. Monkey's don't wear clothing and you're playing alien-possessed monkeys. You need to start thinking like monkeys. Imitate Mombe and the rest of the great apes and relax," Sean ordered. Gary made pretend monkey noises which caused Mombe to grab him. They hugged and ground their hips together. Gary grabbed Mombe's head and kissed him but Mombe broke away. Then he groped Nicholas's crotch. Nicholas jumped away but when Mombe sobbed and acted like a scolded child, Nicholas went over and felt up the bonobo's crotch and furry butt. This would become their jungle greeting, the bonobo handshake -- not full-scale, mind-blowing, hot monkey sex -- but a playful sexual caress.

Gary jumped into the water and slicked down the fur growing on his body. They played in the shallow water most of the afternoon. Mombe didn't swim and when Gary tried, he found his arms and legs weren't suited to the movements. But splashing kept them cool. By the time they finished, both men had a uniform growth of black, silky hair covering their bodies; the start of furry pelts. When Mombe drank from a stream feeding the lake, they imitated him. And when he ate the indigenous fruits and nuts, they did too. Both men kept reaching and flexing as their shoulders and hips changed from human to primate forms.

"Is this stiffness normal?" Nicholas asked.

"As far as I know. Your bones are changing and your musculature is learning new movements." Sean sat in the "Y" of a tree with his arms folded. "Your shoulders might feel odd because your trapezium is shortening in anticipation of the changes to the rotator cuff. The longer arms and thinner waists will let you balance while swinging on vines. Your thighs are bowing and your hip muscles are growing stronger. Monkeys have shorter legs. But, your new legs will twist like arms and your feet will be as flexible as your hands. Most likely you can grip ropes with your feet right now. You just aren't thinking about doing it. Climbing requires huge, strong calves, wrists and forearms. Both fingers and toes will curve inward too. The skeletal changes occur last probably while you sleep." Gary and Nicholas took note..

"Where do we spend the night?"

"Mombe will show you how to make sleeping platforms." Sean pointed up.

"In the canopy?"

"Lions and tigers and hippos and elephants and all sorts of nocturnal things that want to eat you alive," Sean said.

"You want us to climb a tree naked?" Gary held his hands over his crotch. Mombe laughed and chattered.

"In case you haven't noticed, you got hair that protects your skin and those monkey balls are sturdier than their human equivalent. I've seen females smack Mombe hard enough to leave me in agony and he laughs. Let's pretend we're bonobos, climb a tree and look around the jungle." Sean went over to a large tree, threw a rope around it and started to climb. Mombe simply grabbed the bark and shinnied up. Gary and Nicholas imitated Mombe's actions. High up away from predators, Sean slung a hammock between two branches. Mombe sat on a platform of leaves and branches beneath it.

Gary and Nicholas ripped at vines and built a platform. Without much thought, they began to grip vines with their feet. The curved fingers and toes let them lock their hands and hang for prolonged periods without straining. When they finished, they listened to the nightly serenade of jungle birds, monkey sex, night predators and insects.

"We're not alone, are we?" Gary looked across to Sean surprised at how far his voice carried in the night air.

"We're reasonably safe. We're in the middle of a bonobo gathering. They call, snore, chatter and fuck all night. Tonight, you should sleep. Tomorrow, you can join the party. Don’t be surprised if the bonobos wake you tomorrow morning. You're new. You'll be THE attraction."

"We barely left the camp. Can't we take this a little slower?" Gary asked. Nicholas realized that Gary's face had changed, flattened. His forehead had a big ridge across it.

"Tomorrow morning you'll look and act like monkeys. Day after that, we have a full schedule of scenes to film."

"Scenes? Tomorrow?" Gary asked. Sean climbed into the netting of his hammock. He could barely see it was so dark.

"I'll help you run you through your lines and block out the scenes for the movie. Trust me, I won't let you fail. I'm here to see that you become a screaming success."

"Does the rest of the cast know about us?" Gary asked.

"No, they think you had family trouble and went home. The director told them that I trained some bonobos." That's enough truth to make them believe. Sean thought. He flexed the stiffness out of his arms and legs. Mombe rolled against him and rested his head between Sean's thighs. Sean lay his head on Mombe's narrow stomach. He didn't realize that Gary's transformed eyes could see his white body against Mombe's black fur in moonlight. Many eyes watched the human Sean and his bonobo lover enjoy each other. Gary began to adjust his attitudes towards the world. He held Nicholas tight.

"We shouldn't have agreed so fast," Gary said. Nick wrapped his elongating arms and legs around Gary.

"Trust Sean. He's a good guy. We'll be OK." They slept in each other's arms.

ACT THREE

Nicholas opened his eyes and saw two-dozen bonobo hanging from the trees and branches around him. "The bonobos are here to welcome you," Sean yelled across the jungle from where he hung from some vines.

"Sun up," Mombe's clipped words startled Nicholas. It wasn't English. It was monkey talk. He never thought the monkey noises hid a language but now he understood what Mombe said.

Nicholas tried to speak but only simian pyows, hacks and chatters came out of a new mouth with a new tongue. Nicholas leaned up on his elbow, grabbed his throat with a black and hairy hand and then flipped Sean the bird. He tried to talk a second time. He spoke a reasonable version of human speech. One of the female bonobos took his raised hand as an invitation. She lowered her fiery red protuberance onto his hand and moved rhythmically up-and-down five or six times. Gary's face lit up in amazement. His new nose liked what he could smell. Without thinking he eeped at her. The bonobos poked him intimately and he returned their touch.

Gary woke with a shot and grabbed what he thought was Nicholas. It was another bonobo, the biggest, hairiest, most attractive bonobo he ever saw. Surprised monkey noises came out of his mouth. Then he realized that he wasn't Nicholas, at least not human Nicholas. He was monkeyfied Nicholas. He chattered away in the clipped sounds of the bonobos without making sense.

Surrounded by male and female primates intent upon welcoming them into the jungle, Gary and Nicholas slid down vines where the bonobos groomed and stroked them as newcomers. With new senses, they touched, tasted and felt furry bodies and handsome, grinning monkey faces. They had rounded, ball-shaped heads, new faces pulled forward into black-skinned snouts, flattened noses, lowered foreheads, prehensile feet with toes that worked like fingers. The older bonobos brought fruit and nuts. The younger males began to play games with Gary and Nicholas. No one noticed the heat even in direct sunlight.

Sean watched all morning as Gary and Nicholas learned the resilience in their bodies and flexibility of their new musculature. Their hips, being wider and longer, protected their testicles. The thick foreskins protected their penises. When they stood and tried to walk as bipeds, new hips made it uncomfortable for more than a few steps. Without much thought, they started to knuckle walk low to the ground. They looked stronger and bigger than any bonobo. They had graceful torsos, heavy legs and powerful arms -- buff monkeys. They gradually gained their simian voices. The sounds filled with guttural grunting and animalistic percussions. They also realized that Mombe spoke some English.

"The director wants you to talk. If you sound bad, they'll overdub alien voices in post-production," Sean explained. Gary hooted and screeched. The Bonobos laughed in their high-pitched cackle. Gary tried again to talk. This time His voice sounded deep, rich but distinctly non-human. A few simian chirps and calls disrupted his clipped but identifiable English words.

"What scenes are we filming tomorrow?"

"The second unit possession scene where two scientists explore a fallen meteor with and the energy beings burst out, kill the humans and then take over your simian bodies. The director says it's like a death scene -- overact, scream, yell, thrash and twitch and all that sort of thing, then settle down, act stunned and rise to standing as possessed beings. The even wrote lines for the stupid scientists to say while dying. What can I say, the writers overwrote."

"Sounds like Plan 9," Gary smirked and oogah'd a laugh. The bonobos around them made puzzled noises. Nicholas hooted and gagged a few sounds causing the bonobos to laugh out loud.

"Don't say Plan 9. Damn it. The crew will go nuts and screw the pooch big time. Superstitious buggers. Don't play grab-ass. Don't jerk off for the crew. Don't flip the bird to the camera. Don't stick your fingers up your butts or pee all over someone's boots for fun. The director wants authentic monkeys but not authentic body fluids." Sean winked at Mombe who understood and bounced with laughter. "Teach them to be nice monkeys, Mombe. Make them forget they were once humans. Go off and misbehave, all of you. Quit hanging around the only human in the jungle."

Mombe ran off to the vines. Gary chased after and yelled the word "jungle" at him. Mombe repeated jungle in simian with ooh-oohs, and howls. Then he pointed to a female bonobo and they began to repeat the word. In a few minutes, the ooh-ooh-ooh-jungle word resounded through the group. The bonobos chattered for more. Gary created and led the game with Nicholas refining pronunciation as they swung through the trees and bounced through the jungle. The bonobos raced with them screaming new words.

Gary and Nicholas played rough and ready. Every so often the bonobos stopped and ate the big juicy caterpillars with the fruit and nuts. Gary and Nicholas didn't hesitate to consume the bounty of the jungle. AS the day progressed, the two stuntmen blended more-and-more into the groups of monkeys. I picked the best men for the job, thought Sean. Gary and Nicholas climbed and bounced around the jungle taking time with each of the smaller bonobos.

Sean watched Mombe play with Gary or Nicholas. The didn't realize that his innate ability to understand English wasn't more than his companionship with Sean. With each reverse-regression, Mombe came closer to human existence. Towards evening, Sean walked back to the camp to meet with the second unit director, who thanks to the vagaries of who was screwing whom in the movie money world at the right time and not near the opening door to be kicked out, was now the principle director. He came back with directions for the next day's shooting schedule, explained it to Gary and Nicholas as best he could and then rehearsed until it got dark.

That first day of jungle filming strained the crew physically. By noon, Mombe organized several bonobos to hold with reflectors and support the equipment but heat and exhaustion took its toll on the filming. The dailies sucked from camera jiggles, sun glare and continuity mistakes with different trees, birds moving in and out of scenes during retakes and worst of all, insects on the camera lenses. That night, Gary, Nicholas and Mombe choreographed the bonobos so that they could reproduce their actions during each take. As they reshot the previous days work, the bonobos provided a rich background of movement, colorful flowers and jungle creatures. When the director saw the second day's dailies, he loved it.

The morning of the third day, a dozen young bonobos helped carry and place the equipment in the jungle, find suitable clearings and brace the equipments in the trees. Their superior stamina gave the crew a break. That afternoon, when the cast moved to the sets of the highly detailed and lovingly crafted alien spaceship and secret military laboratory, it crawled with insects.

The grips and carpenters stood in the densest jungle complaining about lost time. Several actors refused to set foot near the insects and the director started to through an apoplectic shit-fit. Mombe chattered and danced around the director, miming a plan. The director, still screaming at his own crew and actors, waved his permission at Mombe. Within thirty minutes, four extended family groups of bonobos showed up to "clean" the sets. Which basically meant that the bonobos either ate or removed the creepy crawlies.

Two Grips and one carpenter puked at the insects' demise but with a clean set, the director lost it and kissed Mombe. He told Sean to have Mombe clean the sets between scenes. The ill-ease with insect foodstuffs vanished as the actors completed their scenes. That night, the crew devised drinking games that involved eating ugly bugs. In their carousing, the crewmen dared Mombe to eat. He took the bug, a fat and juicy caterpillar, ate it and then showed his tongue to prove that the bug was gone. The drunkards in the crew ate bugs-on-bets that night. On the set, eating bugs became a badge of courage. The edible bugs tasted funky and distracted from the heat and hardship. The young male bonobos started to drink and misbehave with the crew.

The mostly male crew adopted Sean's Speedo attire augmented by DEET and sunblock. They resembled greasy bodybuilders. It seemed innocent enough until one of the crew got horny and after being exposed to the bright red, blood-engorged female monkey parts, took relief behind a tree. It wasn't long before the crew invented ways to sneak off. The phrase "Gotta see a man about sumthin'" took on a new meaning beyond emptying the bladder and waving the weenie. The shoot became one, happy, alcohol-enhanced and sexually satisfied group. The film crew only cared if they ran out of alcohol, DEET or forest time, as they named it. Sean, being the only human with an anthropological background, didn't bother to tell anyone how unique these relationships were, nor how extraordinary.

Please with success, director had the three writers enhance Gary and Nicholas's parts. He approached Sean with a difficult shooting schedule. Sean, Mombe, Gary and Nicholas worked out a plan to see it through an extra month of shooting. The additional footage turned what was destined to be grade Z, sci-fi turkey-like garbage into a first-rate satire and mystery. In the final week of the shooting, Sean floated a proposal for a documentary about the habitats and customs of the bonobos after the filming ended. A cameraman, grip and sound technician signed up to stay with him after the shoot closed. Gary and Nicholas agreed to remain in their simian forms and participate.

The last day of the shooting, Gary and Nicholas got to die as the cheesy death ray device killed the alien energy beings possessing their bodies. Nicholas and Gary died extravagantly horrid deaths. The final take went into realms of ham acting never seen on movie screens. Crew cheered, bonobos screamed. The director had his money shots for the movie trailer and the silliest outtakes of overacting monkeys for the DVD. After the dailies, the director and the cast helicoptered out of the jungle. The African crew boated across the lake and down the Fimi River. The remaining crew broke down the sets and packed the equipment and waited for a transport plane.

ACT FOUR

That night turned into party time. The crew ate the remaining food, drank the liquor supplies and celebrated with Sean and the bonobos. The next morning, all but three of the crew bid a boozy goodbye to Lake MDombe and the bonobos, boarded the transport drunk still hung over or half-drunk. Sean, his three-man volunteer film crew, the half-humans and several bonobos lay passed out in the middle of the camp. Gary woke first, rolled over and hid his eyes from the sunlight. He groped Nicholas awake.

"Christ was I drunk last night," Gary said in English with all the bonobo accents.

"I don't remember a damn thing I did," Nicholas answered, chuckling and making eek-eek-eek noises.

"I thought troglodytes weren't supposed to get hangovers." Gary whined.

Mombe stirred at the sound of their voices. "Paniscus, not troglodytes. Paniscus." Nicholas rolled into his back with his legs spread and groaned.

"Thanks Sean. We know we're stupid." Nicholas wailed, making his voice high and holding the U in stupid in a loud moan. Mombe added a high pitch laugh that made Sean's eyes cross. Sean's shoulders moved up and down almost unable to move as the world spun around him. He whimpered doggie style. The bonobos mimicked the whimpers. They added screechy sounds that resembled fingernails on a blackboard. Seam gritted his teeth at the sound.

"Stop that! I'm dying." Sean moaned. He crawled to a bucket and ralphed into it; first time to empty his stomach and second time at the smell. Then he gargled a bottle of water into his mouth letting the water wash his face and spill down his chest.

"God in heaven, I reek," Sean said, trying to stand without wobbling but he couldn't find anything that wasn't spinning.

"Catch." Mombe threw a juicy caterpillar on Sean's bare back. The insect stuck like snot. Sean jumped up and screamed like a little girl, brushing and waving his arms and trying to get the bug off of him. Mombe grabbed one of Sean's legs with his foot and yanked. Sean hit the ground and squashed the caterpillar. He lay on his back moaning, laughing and holding his head with both hands.

"That hurt!" Sean whined between his laughs. He crawled to the nearest tree and gasped for air. Mombe grabbed him around the waist and shook him. Sean gurgled half his innards on the ground. Army ants swarmed over the blotch.

"Don't scream like that, asshole. Have some respect for the drunken dead." One of the crew spoke.

"Mombe' wins again. That little sucker popped like giant zit," the other crewman laughed. Sean held his stomach to keep from retching again. Gary and Nicholas wobbled into a boozy imitation of a knuckle walk.

"Do we have to move?"

"Need to get fruit, water. Go to lake." Mombe pulled Sean onto his shoulder. Sean groaned objections and Mombe set him on unstable feet. Sean headed toward the lake with Gary and Nicholas.

The film crew looked for their clothing but those were gone to some forest critter's nests. When they stood upright, their boners flopped in the air. They brushed the dirt away.

"No excuses. You look like shit. Time to go eat, drink." Mombe ordered. He pointed toward the lake. As they walked, He chattered eee noises and bounced. Mombe tapped the cameraman's chest with the back of his hand and brought it up to the cameraman's chin. The crew stared at him as they stumbled over the path.

"Christ was I drunk last night," the Soundman said.

"I don't remember a damn thing," Mombe added, laughing and chattering. The three crewmen stayed silent until they caught up to Sean and the others.

"Dude, your monkey talks," the soundman said.

"Yeah, I've been teaching 'em English. Easier than learning monkey calls or miming all those instructions. These guys are the young turks, hot and horny like you guys. The elder males and females have more sense than to get as drunk as we did. They left early to tend the babies and families. They're going to scold us." Sean felt good enough to grab a fruit and take a bite. His stomach revolted immediately. He moaned and whimpered.

"Walk if off. You got drunk not mortally wounded," the cameraman said. He looked like a twenty-something, pirate with long black hair, dark-skin, a furry chest and body.

"The bonobos will grope you to say hello. You guys know that." Sean continued his previous line of talk, ignoring the insult.

"Monkey's are hot fucking booty calls," The cameraman said.

"I'd like a little warning before another one shoves anything in my mouth," the Grip wiped at the inside of his lips and his teeth. He was a strong, young and virile graduate student type with flowing, straw-colored hair, broad shoulders and thin waist except for what hung between his legs; that was more than man-sized.

"You've had worse, blondie. Your last girlfriend was a real oinker." The soundman added raucous oinks. The bonobos imitated the sound much to the displeasure of the Grip. They shoved and elbowed each other.

"Strong buggers," the Grip said.

"Be careful, they might be smaller but they're strong enough to break bones if they catch you off guard... I want to document their strength and sexuality on film." Sean said.

"Monkey porn?" the Grip asked

"You got a dirty mind. Anthropological studies for academics. My university said I couldn't return Mombe to the jungle. The documentary will destroy the narrow-minded bastards who wanted to keep him in the zoo."

"Mombe? The monkey that speaks iodiomatic English?" the soundman reminded them. They fell into the water and rubbed their bodies.

"Must have been the booze talking. He usually talks only in monkey speak." Sean splashed his body with water to wash away the remnants of the party. He sniffed at his armpits and rolled his eyeballs.

"Not what I heard."

"Speaking of names, you three should pick simple names before the bonobos bark and chirp one for you. You don't want to be called eeek-ooh-ooh-eek, do you?" Sean asked.

"Depends on what ee-oo-ee-oo means." The soundman dropped the consonants in the monkey calls. Worse, he sneered at Sean.

"Depending on inflection, lion dung, frog splooge, or giraffe turd."

"I think being named 'frog splooge' would be kinda cool, don't you?" the cameraman held a hand to his mouth and giggled. The grip smacked the back of his head with his open hand.

"Gus, I always wanted to be just Gus," the cameraman answered. He folded his arms and pouted.

"I got dibs on Bob," the Grip said before Sean could say anything.

"Dom for Dominick," the soundman added. He was a slender, fair-skinned twenty-something with size fifteen feet. His uncut manhood never seemed to point down. It always stuck out, thick as a potato.

"OK, Gus, Bob and Cam. After you wash up, go collect the waterproof footlockers in my tent to store your photographic and computer equipment and clothing. Unless we lock it up, nothing will survive the jungle. We don't need clothing. The bonobo think clothing is a souvenir. Be careful. You'll be the center of attention."

"You're monkey still speaks English like one of us. And those other two, the big ones who acted through the film, they understand every word we say." Dom said. Sean avoided the answer.

"If you want to know so bad, ask them? You might find out they do a damn good job of imitating humans. Remember, they're beasts. Now go play with the beasts and let me suffer alone." Sean pointed to the bonobos playing a short distance away. Bob, Cam and Dom ran down into the water, splashing everyone. They played until the sun rose high and baked the alcohol out of their bodies. They even joined the grooming as they lounged. Gary, Nicholas and Mombe made sure it got intimate.

ACT FIVE

Acclimating the camera crew and the bonobos lasted two weeks before the bonobos got bored and quit followint ehe cameras. Only the babies paid attention to the cameras. Gary and Nicholas stopped acting human and worked at being bonobos and convinced the film crew they were merely intelligent bonobos. At least that's what Sean thought happened. Mombe made sure that the film crew any hangups over grooming, greeting, sleeping in the trees, eating bonobo food and above all, mating with the bonobos. With all the climbing and running in the jungle, the men slimmed down and muscled up. Documentary filming lasted for four months before the film crew ran out of DVDs and hard drive storage. The humans tanned to dark browns and golds and grew beards and ponytails.

"I thought we'd ruin the solar batteries before we ran out of file storage," Gus the cameraman sat at the last planks of a table while his computer stored movie files to a DVD.

"I keep thinking of situations we haven't filmed and can't think of any," Bob patted Sean's tanned back.

"We did a good job," Gus relaxed against a log. Sean had a bottle of whiskey ready for this situation. Sean poured seven glasses. Gary, Nicholas and Mombe joined the film crew in a toast to the completion of their job.

"And it's all narrated thanks to Dom's voice-overs. I always thought it would need post production. Thanks guys. I owe you so much." Sean poured a second round of drinks. They drank to the success of the documentary. Mombe grabbed Bob's privates and started to howl but Bob stopped him before he attracted other bonobos.

"We'll fuck later, monkey-man. Right now, Sean has to tell us how he's going to get these DVDs into the academic world." Bob folded his arms and waited. Gary stood up and dropped his usual monkey mannerisms. Sean looked at Bob surprised and scared.

"I have a colleague who's going to get it reviewed and published. Why do you ask?" Sean answered.

"A colleague willing to do all that work. Seriously? Really? Does he work at the same university that's been fucking you over the past decade or so?" Dom asked. Sean's jaw fell.

"The same university department that stole your research, about what, five or six years ago?" Bob asked. Sean sputtered. Mombe moved next to Sean and snarled.

"Calm down monkey man. We're here to help Sean." Dom's eyes bore down on Mombe, making him curl around Sean's leg. He watched Sean try to compose a lie.

"We know more about you than we've ever said. Bob and I worked at that university to get our BS and MS degrees. The lunchtime gossip was Sean Govan-Creightan and how they screwed you over, step-by-step. We lost our scholarships and had to transfer. The new school hated the old school and we heard a different story about the Govan-Creightan theories. We've heard lots of rumors from the rat bastards and backstabbing snakes at both schools. Why yhey even floated the rumor that the Department kidnapped your protégé, Miles and put him in a zoo?" Dom stopped. Sean's hands shook. He hugged Mombe's shoulders. Tears formed in his eyes.

"Lies," Sean started to respond.

"No, Mombe is Miles, isn't he? And those two stunt men, Gary and Nicholas, they're standing right here, aren't they? They never did get called home, did they?" Dom left Sean speechless. Bob laughed.

"You're all wrong, I trained those bonobos."

"No one believed the rumor that you could change a man into an ape until we discovered the real deal. Your original research buddies, suppressed the discovery of a retroviral agent capable of species changes?" Bob said.

"I think these guys have your number, dude, and we didn't tell him. He approached Nicholas and Me." Gary used their simian names rather than their English names.

"How?

"During the second week of shooting, I discovered Gary's corona. Now I worked with primates through high school and college and I knew that none of them, chimp, bonobo, ape of baboon had coronas. Except for these three." Bob grabbed Gary's hairy crotch and slid his foreskin back to reveal a corona. "Besides, primate splooge tastes like monkey splooge. These three taste different, like human splooge. "

"Your filthy-nasty dude," Nicholas said.

"What did you want me to say? It tastes like Chicken? Tastes like caviar. It doesn't. It's splooge!" Bob folded his arms and harrumphed to punctuate his revelation. Gus and Dom turned scarlet.

"Have a little dignity, Bob." Gus muttered to Bob.

"What does this have to do with me and the university?" Sean interrupted.

"Oh that, yeah, we were talking about that. Sorry I digressed. The point of all this discussion is that my PhD professors would love to publish these films in the house organ. They're sure it will destroy your old professors at the other college. They hate their guts more than you hate their guts and they're willing to give you credit as long as our university name goes on the masthead. You get primary authorship on the dozen or so DVDs and Bob and I get primary authorship on new research beyond this. That's the deal. It sounds good to me." Bob set his hands on his hips.

"Is that why you stayed in the jungle all this time, university honor?" Sean asked. Bob kept his arms on his hips as he answered.

"Damn are you dense. It's more than just academic respect. We all want to live in the jungle studying primates."

"Bonobos are the Cadillac of the great apes but we would have settled for the ugly, red-assed baboons if that was the only choice," Gus added his two cents.

"What you gave Gary and Nicholas, we want. Think of how good our research will be if we live with the bonobos. No one has that perspective. This is academic gold," Bob said.

"But you'll be exposed to poachers."

"Ain't going to happen. The movie director bought off the president of the Congo to make the film. He created a 250,000-acre preserve around Lake MDombe for the study of primates. The preserve has complete control and its own police force. By the time the Prez realizes what's going on, any living creature in the new Congo Primate Preservation Preserve will be protected from harm."

"You planned this well." Sean asked.

"Thanks." Bob relaxed and leaned against Gary.

"If Nicholas and I stay with these three while they conduct the studies, will that affect changing back?" Gary asked, struggling through suppressing monkey speech.

"Yeah, there's no pressure being a bonobo. They never act superior to each other. There's food, mates who care about you and good sex. All freely given. This is an Eden created out of academic hatred and a cheesy movie. We're happy with what we've become." Gary breathed heavily at the effort required to speak English without a simian accent. Nicholas stood next to him and eep-eeped his approval.

"What about your stuntman fees?" Sean asked.

"The starting money for the Preserve's foundation. It's enough for a decade or two."

"Look, it shouldn't be about hatred or revenge. Miles was a bright and happy twelve-year-old when I started college. I rented a room in his parent's house and within months, they died in a car accident. I kept him safe and raised him through his high school and college. He followed in my academic footsteps. He was brilliant. The greedy bastards tricked Miles into testing the formula. They shot him up with a formulation that caused regression. It was wrong. His body regressed back older than gibbons and apes, and older than the new world monkeys. He became something like the first Cattarrhines. It nearly wiped out his mind. When they figured out their mistake, they put him in the monkey cage of an obscure zoo with chimpanzees. They didn't even know he was a bonobo. It took me a year to find him and start the reverse genetic modification. I can't bring him any closer to being human than he is now. Miles is gone. Mombe has taken his place."

"Your documentary will destroy your old academics and their theories not out of revenge, but because they are wrong theories," Bob declared. Sean shook his head in agreement. Nicholas stood up and chest bumped Gary and Mombe.

Sean went over to the footlocker and unlocked a metal storage case with the retroviral agent. He prepared one hypodermic, plunged it into his hip and let Mombe depress the plunger. "This is the retrovirus. All it takes is one injection. I have the only vial of reversion formula. If I destroy it, there's no turning back, no reversion." Excited at the prospect, Nicholas and Gary bounced up and down.

"Does it affect your mind?" Dom asked Gary and Nicholas.

"Hope so, I want to convert more. I want another shot." Gary's voice was all chirps and pwohts. Sean acknowledged his request.

"The retrovirus makes you happy go lucky. I designed this batch for my change. If Mombe can't return to human form, neither will I."

"Like a Pollyanna potion. Good deal. Do it before we change our minds and want to revert. That second dose will make us happy with the mental and physical changes. No sense in doing anything else. Our fortunes are here." Bob, Gus and Dom stood together. Sean injected each of them and gave Gary a second dose or retrovirus and then destroyed the hypodermics.

"I have a couple dozen doses of the retrovirus. Maybe we'll find other volunteers. You three got about an hour before you the permanent changes manifest on your minds and bodies." Sean carefully replaced the retrovirus.

"We're starting out at the bottom of the pecking order. Expect to be thumped and fucked by the other males and females."

"Good, let's create some excitement." Nicholas and Mombe butted chests and left their hips together. They grappled for a few seconds and then split apart to reveal erections before wrestling each other to the ground. Gary shrieked out. The young bonobo males called out an answer. The party was starting early today and always ended in rough, screaming, bare-assed, hot-as-hell monkey sex.

"Do my buns affect your mind?" Bob smart-assed to Gary whose his once human but now simian face stared back at him for a moment. Gary slicked back his black hair, ran a finger under his squashed nose and growled at Bob.

"Your ass is mine newby." He grabbed Bob and spun him around. Bob bent forward and let out a rebel war whoop as Gary slid his cock into Bob in one stroke. One of the female bonobos came over and waved her red sexual protuberance at Bob. He grabbed her and sunk his tongue deep into her tender red flesh. Her shrieks attracted other female bonobos and an impromptu orgy had begun.

Mombe grabbed Dom's ponytail and shoved the man's head into his crotch. Dom pulled back but a bonobo pushed him forward, "Suck me, dude. I'm a hot body just for you." Domenic wrapped his hands around Mombe's hips and swallowed the monkey's funky red tool. When they surfaced for air, bodies lay everywhere engaging in screaming, whooping monkey sex. Dom plunged into several females. The orgy lasted well into the night

The first long-term study of simian social customs was well on its way to being a success.

DENOUEMENT

Monkey Men From Mars made so much money as a satirical comedy that the director doubled his stake in the Primate Preserve to ensure that his star actors lived in troglodytic pleasure for the planned half-dozen sequels.

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