Someone here is a little understimulated. Catisthentics isn’t quite enough to burn off myu excess energy. Chewing the papyrus isn’t nearly as much fun when it doesn’t get a rise out of the simians and make them charge across the room or hiss at me.
It will be a full night’s sun before the next hairless tall comes to attend to our alter for Mror. All one can do until then is lay plans…and sit on the counter until my unassuming, wee bit deaf colleague starts to miss me, search unsuccessfully. Then I shall pounce on her back. Nip her ears. Then she shall know that I am most definitely, completely here.