BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale

Subject: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Rapparee
Date: 15 Jan 04 - 08:40 AM

Tossing cards into a hat wasn't getting the rent paid. But ever since she'd left it was all Chongo could seem to do.

That and drink. Had to get some money soon or the last bourbon bottle would be dry.

He flipped the three of clubs towards the hat, missed. Damn. The whole deck was all over the floor. He'd have to pick them up again. Maybe he'd buy three or four more decks, make it easier to....

It was a very official knock on the door. Cops, thought Chongo. Heavy cops. Maybe even G-men.

The door opened, crashed into the wall. Two guys in suits and hats. Yeah, thought Chongo, examining the last few weeks in his head, G-men. FBI.

"You Chongo Chimp, chump?" asked the taller.

"You curious or just dumb?" replied Chongo. "Who else would be...URK!" The shorter guy held Chongo by the neck up against the wall.

"Lissen, you! You keep a civil tongue in yor head, see? When you git asked somethin' by the Boss, you answer, you ____________ ape!" He let go, dropping Chongo to the floor.

"Oh, let's all sit down and discuss this like civilized people," said the taller. "Dicky, let it go. I don't think Mr. Chimp meant anything impolite."

"I don't like ___________ apes, that's all," muttered Dicky.

Chongo hoisted himself into his desk chair. The taller man took the client's chair. Dicky stood, looking like the business end of an unhappy .38.

Chongo looked at Dicky, said "You're ugly. Don't let me catch you in an alley, 'cause afterwards you'll be uglier."

"Listen, Chimp," began the taller man. "We're Federal agents." And he flipped an ID across the desk. Chongo glanced at it. Not the FBI. Must be..."Counterintelligence?" he asked.

The taller man waved off the question with a flick of his right hand. "You could say that, yes," he answered. "You interested in serving your country?"

"Maybe. Is there pay, or am I gonna do this outa the goodness of my heart and the empty of my cupboard?"

"A hundred a day plus expenses. And we'll pay hospital and funeral expenses if necessary."

The pay was good, though Chongo. Too good. This would be as dangerous as a rabid dog, maybe worse.

"And here's ten days pay as a signing bonus," added the taller man. Dicky snorted as a pack of twenties was laid on the desk.

Chongo looked at it, his stomach rumbled. He took it, counted it, stuck it in his desk.

"What's the caper?" he asked.

"Nazi spies," replied the taller agent. "At least, we THINK so." He turned to Dicky. "Go get the General. Now."

Dicky turned sullenly, left, and returned a moment later with a man in a suit. Dicky returned to the place where he'd been holding up the wall.

"Chongo Chimp," said the taller agent, who was now standing, "General Leslie Groves." They shook hands, both sat.

"So, Mr. Chimp," said Groves, "I've got to break all kinds of security here, but you'll need to know. We've run a background check on you, and you're a patriotic Primate-American clear through. So, tell me...have you ever heard of the Manhattan Project?"

Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Little Hawk
Date: 15 Jan 04 - 12:32 PM

Editor's note: Kreegah!!! Here we go, folks! It's another glorious Chongo Chimp, Primate Eye tale from the gritty streets of Chicago, USA. It's late 1940. The Germans are blitzing England, but America is still not in the war. Big Daddy Malone, the mad musical orangutan, is languishing in a high security jail cell (where he is likely to remain for a few years), and the North Side Gorillas and South Side Baboons are reorganizing in the wake of the collossal shootout down at the docks, which resulted in the siezing of 50 million contraband bananas by the Feds. Chongo Chimp has a new office and a new car, courtesy of the mysterious Laura "M", who sent him a $7,000 check from Spanish Morocco to replace his losses in the last caper. It was probably just a small slice of the money she netted for seven stolen diamonds, but who knows? It's hard to tell with Laura. Chongo has been lovelorn and morose ever since she left, tortured by his forbidden and secret love for the human female. Now he is about to get his tender little apeskin into another major screwup involving...the Manhattan Project!!! Yowsa!

Writers - keep the basics in mind: Chongo is the hero of these stories. He's smart, tough, cynical, hardworking...a typical Primate Eye. He doesn't get killed. Neither does police detective Drecker (Chongo's pal on the force)...and his 1933 banana yellow Cadillac, a gift from the KING (KONG) does NOT get blown up by anyone. Nymbel the Capuchin monkey is a handy sidekick for Chongo in these stories, so don't kill him either. If other people invent an interesting character, try not to kill him/her without at least getting their permission first. Vampy dames are needed in good primate eye stories, so feel free to come up with some here and there.

Useful bits of street-ape patois can be picked up from a google search for Edgar Rice Burroughs' Ape-English dictionary.

Kreegah!!!

- LH

Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Amos
Date: 15 Jan 04 - 12:50 PM

Ape English Dictionary

Ape - English Vocabulary

Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Jack the Sailor
Date: 15 Jan 04 - 02:06 PM

Chongo could tell it was an act. Dicky was saying Boss but he meant General. The "Boss" talked to Dicky with the deferance an smart officer pays an experienced first sergeant. As they boardes a non descript sedan Chongo's thought's went back to Africa.

"he's going left!"
"No! Right!"
Chongo held a grudging admiration for the little monkey they were hunting. Twenty strong chimps in their prime chasing this little protein boost and they hadn't got near him yet.
The little capuchin headed in to the coconut grove.
as the nearest chimps grew closer he threw a large nut to the ground. It split perfectly on a sharp rock and two of the persuers descended to the ground and hungrily cramed the white meat into their maouths.
Chongo shook his head in grudging admiration.

"What next?" thought Chongo as his quarry put another coconut under it arm and lept to the next tree.
"He's swinging on that vine toward those thick bushes."
"The vine is wrapping around that tree!"
"He's on the ground I heard him in the bushes!!"
As the other chimps hit the ground and started beating around the bushes, Chongo crept quitely to the large mahogany and peered into a groove between to lage branch's. Sure enough there was the monkey silenty laughing at the chimps on the ground.

Quick as a leopard, Chongo grabbed the little beast and held him up by his prehensile tail. He was just about to snap the scrawny neck when the monkey uttered a real head scratcher.

"If I'm going to be eaten at least its by a chimp that can tell the difference between a plantain and a plantation!"

"You're pretty smart yerself" admitted Chongo.

"Tell you what err....."
"Chongo"
"Tell you what Chongo. With my help you can run this jungle. Gettin' a bit protein now and then will be the least of your worries. You spare me now and I'll give you something I got from the mining camp. The miners call it bratwurst"
"OK Monkey you got a deal!"
"You can call me Nymbal Mr. Chimp."
"Nah... call me Chongo."
"Chongo, This looks like the beginning of a successfull symbiosis."
"Bratwust eh? What are they mining."
"The miners call it Yellowcake. Maybe it's good to eat."
Another fateful day in Niger.

Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Jack the Sailor
Date: 15 Jan 04 - 02:09 PM

Please pardon the typos folks. I hope it don't ruin the story for you.

Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Little Hawk
Date: 15 Jan 04 - 05:55 PM

Chongo had not heard of the Manhattan Project. He wondered if it had something to do with building a memorial to the fallen King, the mighty Kong, who had done his last tragic swan dive off the Empire State Building back in 1933. Apes from all over the world still went to the site daily and placed flowers on the sacred spot where Kong had fallen, riddled with thousands of 30 caliber bullets, and breathed his last.

Well, it probably didn't have a thing to do with that. Humans didn't care much about Kong anymore, even if he had made a hell of a big splash in '33, and it was doubtful that they would build him a memorial, thought Chongo.

"Nope. I ain't heard of it, General. What say you and me have a drink and you can fill me in on this Manhattan Project?"

A Grand in hand, and a century a day...things were looking up. Just the medicine he needed to stop thinking about that dame Laura and get back behind the wheel.

Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Cluin
Date: 15 Jan 04 - 06:01 PM

"Agreed," nodded the General. "Let's head over to the Officer's Club and we can have a stiff one, and you can check me over for fleas and ticks while I go over the high points"

"Aw shit, a traditionalist!" thought Chongo. "This won't be much fun."

Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Little Hawk
Date: 15 Jan 04 - 06:12 PM

(snicker) Now, Cluin, let's not be completely ridiculous...they are gonna talk in Chongo's private office. That's the way it's done in Chicago. This is 1940 America, baby, and don't you forget it. Apes don't groom humans in America, and they don't usually touch them either if they can help it, cos it ain't considered proper behaviour by either party. The humans have got this idea that they are superior to apes, see, but they value the special abilities that an ape can provide...like climbing up sheer walls and breaking some bozo's stiff neck with a careless twist of the hairy arm and stuff like that.

- LH

Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Cluin
Date: 15 Jan 04 - 06:51 PM

Oh well, if yer gonna take all the fun out of it...

Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: GUEST,Chongo Chimp
Date: 15 Jan 04 - 07:13 PM

It ain't easy livin' on bananas and cheap booze when ya got bills to pay. A Grand on the desk and a hundred bucks a day can go a long way toward fixin' a problem like that. But it can't fix the ache in your heart. Hell, that's why I drink. I'll kiss a mandrill's rainbow tail before you catch me groomin' a human. Well, I might make an exception in one or two cases...but it would have to be a real special human. I ain't namin' no names either. This general must pull a lotta weight. I know what kind of money gets spent on military contracts. Enough money to keep a chimp in ripe mangos till the last trumpet call, Clyde. Lemme tell ya somethin', buddy...there ain't no bugs on Chongo Chimp! I use Mennen's products every day and I keep a clean hide. You want bugs, you just go down to the Bundolo Club on a Saturday afternoon and hang out with the gorillas in the poolroom. You'll go home with bugs you never even heard of. If you go home at all, that is...they don't like humans at the Bundolo Club.

Chongo

Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Cluin
Date: 15 Jan 04 - 07:57 PM

You sure sound like "Blind DRunk in Blind River", Chongo.

I'd caution LH to watch for signs of Balzacne. (the disorder of an author's characters taking on a too-real existence for them).

Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: GUEST,Kerchak
Date: 15 Jan 04 - 07:58 PM

Chongo, you little maggot, you have insulted gorillas for the last time! I am gonna find you and grind your little flea-ridden body into a pile of mush! You better write your will, you sap. The big Bongo is comin' for Chongo!

Kerchak

Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: GUEST,Chongo Chimp
Date: 15 Jan 04 - 08:36 PM

I am quakin' in my booties, Kerchak. The last time we met I remember you didn't do so hot. I thought you were still in the hospital gettin' your coconuts treated. You mean to say you are back on the street? Awww...ain't that nice. Look, brow-ridge boy, you know where to find me. Any time. Just walk up the stairs and knock. Don't forget to tell your mommie you'll be late gettin' home, though.

By the way, I met a human today who's almost as ugly as you are. His name's Dicky. You guys oughta meet some time and share witlessisms.

Chongo

Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Peace
Date: 15 Jan 04 - 08:37 PM

Screeching tires on the slick pavement; a still, tense moment that would have to last a lifetime for some unfortunate soul; a simlpe flick of the finger and slugs would turn some helpless victim into cream cheese. The vignette played time and time again in the moist heat of the dark: it danced in Chongo's brain, like a "C" movie in a "B" world.

Bananas: skin 'em, throw away the bone--what's left to eat. Like the seamy side of life. Like sucking a limp fish dry. Like . . . .

Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Jack the Sailor
Date: 15 Jan 04 - 08:50 PM

"This general must be on Mescaline!" Thought Chongo "I'd better not mention the Manhattan project to anyone else, its sure to be top secret at least until after the war."
Chongo knew everything that went on in Chicago. He new about the hookers the gamblers and the pushers. He knew about that little experiment under the bleachers at the University. Nuclear fission power source of the future but maybe you could use it for more than "Buck Rogers" stuff. Maybe you could make a bomb. Those Blonde haired blue eyed miners back in Africa sure seemed to think so. He and Nymbel had over heard them talking about getting uranium for the Reich. They said that a couple of pounds of the stuff could turn London into a parking lot. He didn't believe them then. But now???

"I've got a nose for Nazis" said Chongo to the General. Tell me who they're spying on and I'll sniff 'em out quick enough.

Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: GUEST
Date: 15 Jan 04 - 11:07 PM

A chill wind was raising choppy waves on Lake Superior. Little whitecaps showed under lowering skies with just an occasional beam of moonlight filtering through the pressing darkness. There was a sailboat beating southward through the chop. A weary young man clung to the tiller, his eyes straining for a shore he could not see. But he could hear breakers. He had to make that shore before dawn and then cover ground fast, try to make it to a tiny place called Eagle Harbour at the northern extreme of Keweenaw Point, Michigan.

He studied the compass for the thousandth time. It's rather like navigating a fighter plane across the Channel on a bad night, he thought, but so much slower...and even colder. The cold was beginning to numb his senses and stiffen his fingers. The tiller felt like a stick of ice, and the purloined jacket he was wearing gave little protection against the elements. There had been no time or opportunity to get hold of a better one.

Then he saw it, just for a moment. A blinking light...red, red, green....red, red, green. Then nothing. The signal! "Too lucky!" he exclaimed. "I must be the luckiest bastard in the whole air force!"

A slight adjustment to the tiller. She handled nicely. Nice to be sailing again, even under these conditions. It reminded him of the days before the war, sailing with his brothers. They had loved the blustery days, ripping along with the leeward side right down in the water, but a night like that on Lake Superior would have been the end of him. Fortunately the wind was rather moderate tonight, even if it was too damned cold.

Where was that signal? Ah, they must be playing it safe, and only signalling occasionally. Then he saw the shore clearly, a long curving expanse of rocks, crashing waves, and spray flying off in sheets. Christ! Where do I put her ashore? Where are they? Does it matter? Must put her ashore now.

The signal flashed again...red, red, green...and it was only a few hundred feet away. (By God, I've made it!) Then the little boat's keel caught on the bottom and she bumped, broke loose, caught again, slewed half around. A wave broke half over the side and drenched him. Cold as bitter death. The boat lurched shoreward like a crab, leaning half over and catching again. Time to swim for it.

He dove in and felt the cold superior waters close around him, so cold it was like fire. He broke surface, gasped for air and struck shoreward with desperate energy. Got to move on adrenalin while it lasted.

He rode a big wave in for the last twenty feet or so and washed up on small rocks and sand, rolled over, and struggled away from the next set of waves that were coming in to clutch at his heels. Hell and damnation! So cold and raw. Never been so cold.

When the flashlight fell on his face he could only look up at it dumbly. If these were border police, he was too cold and tired to fight or run anymore.

"Leutnant Brehmer, I presume?" The man was thin, dressed in a dark raincoat, with the collar pulled close around his face. He wore spectacles and a fedora.

"Yes," said the young man, rising cautiously to his feet and shivering. There were two other men standing near, studying him carefully. If they were armed, they weren't showing it.

"Who sent for you?" asked the thin man.

"Marika," said Brehmer. "Who commissioned you?"

"Donner und Blitzen," answered the thin man, smiling. "Welcome to America, Leutnant Brehmer. I am your contact, 'Otto'. I apologize for the poor harbour conditions. It is not usually this unpleasant crossing the international border into 'the land of opportunity', but we are living in difficult times, all of us. Cigarette?"

"I should much prefer a hot drink," said Brehmer. "Or two. Or some Schnaps. I am freezing my goddamn arse off."

The other two men laughed, and one of them took off his coat and pressed it on Brehmer. They hustled him up the beach, scaled a small embankment, and got in a car whose motor was still idling. One man took the wheel, the other got out a map, while Brehmer and "Otto" sat in the back seat. And thanks to God! There was a thermos of still hot coffee in the car. Brehmer drank down the coffee like it was the nectar of paradise.

"Otto" studied his catch of the night with great interest. He got out a bottle of brandy and offered it to Brehmer. "No schnaps tonight, I'm afraid." No matter. The brandy was an excellent substitute.

"So, how did you like Canada? Were they hospitable?"

"Not terribly. But they were basically decent. You know the British. They are great believers in law, order, and honour, and really quite proper fellows to deal with, in my opinion."

"Yes. So I hear. And are they proper fellows to fight with?"

"Definitely," said Brehmer. "We've had the devil of a tussle with them over bloody old Eng-gel-land and the thrice damned channel. They are brave, skillful, and entirely dedicated men, flying quite good aircraft. I had the excellent luck to shoot down six of them since August, and then my string of luck ran out, and they shot me down instead one day over Kent. My crate got raked fore and aft by some smart fellow in a Spitfire. He had me cold, but my mates came right to my aid and chased him off. Then I tried to make it back but the engine started smoking badly. It caught fire shortly after that, and I bailed out. Nothing else to do. I found myself descending into a beautiful little field with several very unfriendly gentlemen with pitchforks waiting to receive me when I landed. Since then I have been a guest of His Majesty," Brehmer smiled wryly. "They sent me and a number of others to Canada shortly after. It seems we were too set on escaping, so they decided to put us farther afield. An ocean away."

"Yes. Well, you are in America now, and America is neutral territory. Still, you're what could be termed an illegal alien, so we are going to arrange for a new identity for you for the next little while. You are going to be a diplomatic assistant named 'Becker'. Here are your papers."

Brehmer looked them over. Hans Becker. Well, not a bad name, he supposed. Anyone could be called Hans Becker. It was like being called Tom Smith in England. Totally ordinary.

"So," said 'Otto', "for the last time I congratulate you as Leutnant Jurgen Brehmer for your past aerial exploits on behalf of the Reich. We now have a different sort of work for you to do."

"I am not returning to Europe? I wish to fly again with my unit."

"Not right away. First we need you to help with some intelligence work right here in America. In the big city of Chicago, in fact. I will brief you on that shortly. Your flying abilities may yet prove very useful."

"I see," said Brehmer soberly. This wasn't what he had counted on, but he was ready to do whatever was deemed to be his duty. "I want to write to my family as soon as possible," he said.

"Yes, by all means. We will provide everything you need for that," 'Otto' assured him.

They pulled into a dirt road and up to a small cabin. It looked like a hunting lodge, and when they went in it proved to be exactly that, complete with a handsome moose head mounted on the wall.

One of the other fellows, whose name was apparently Martin, started up a fire in the wood stove and soon the place was reasonably warm. Brehmer suddenly realized how utterly tired he was, and when 'Otto' showed him to a bunk bed he collapsed on it and fell asleep immediately.

"Good man," said Martin. "Imagine escaping and getting all that way in a little sailboat, and then landing within a few hundred feet of the arranged spot. It's almost unbelievable."

"Yes," agreed Bruno. "He must be a tough and resourceful one. I hope he doesn't get pneumonia from his dip in the lake."

"We must make absolutely sure he doesn't, gentlemen," said 'Otto'. "Warmth and food and tender care are the order of the day. We need him far more at this moment than the Luftwaffe does. We'll give him a good couple of days rest here, and then we go straight to Chicago, and we start working. Martin, Bruno, I need that boat sunk. Before daylight.   Take the motor launch up the coast and do it now."

"What?" protested Bruno. "It's 4 AM."

"Exactly. Not much time. Why are you still here?" said 'Otto' sharply, drawing his brows together. Bruno glanced at Martin, sighed, and they turned as one and headed out into the darkness.

"Never misses a damned thing, does he?" muttered Bruno, as he started up the car.

"Not a damned thing whatsoever," agreed Martin. "This poor flyboy, Brehmer, is going to get put through his paces, I'll guarantee it. He may soon wish he was back fighting the Tommies again."

"I think he already wishes it," said Bruno, putting the Packard in gear. "Some of them are born to it. The life expectancy is short, so they say, but you get to fly high for awhile...just like a god... and you get all the girls you can handle when you're on leave. France is a lovely place."

"Yes. Well, there are girls enough in Chicago for me," smiled Martin. "I love the USA. I hope to God they stay neutral forever."

"You'd better," said Bruno I don't think they're liable to join forces with us any time too soon."

* * * * *

Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Little Hawk
Date: 15 Jan 04 - 11:50 PM

Excuse me. I was that last GUEST. I didn't realize I was de-cookied when I submitted the post. I know precious little about General Grove and the Manhattan Project, but I do know a fair bit about the Luftwaffe in WWII, so there you go. This should help make for an interesting addition to the story, I think. All kinds of possibilities.

- LH

Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Hrothgar
Date: 16 Jan 04 - 05:14 AM

Franz von Werra would have loved it.

Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Little Hawk
Date: 16 Jan 04 - 09:24 AM

Yes, as a matter of fact I was thinking about him too. I looked up some stuff on his amazing escape (all the way back to occupied Europe), which was made into a film in England after the war, starring Hardy Kruger as Von Werra.

- LH

Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Chief Chaos
Date: 16 Jan 04 - 10:00 AM

The general had left a package with all the info that Chongo needed to get started and not a pinch more. Chongo hadn't expected too much, "You don't get to be a general by giving away all you know", he mused, "specially in these type of affairs."

It seemed that someone had been using small chimps and monkeys to penetrate security through the air shafts of the building. Too small for humans but not for smaller species of primate. Security had found chimp hairs on the floor below one of the air shafts. The lieutenant commander in charge of security had gone from an inflated idiot to a sad sack private in seconds flat in Grove's private office and was now cooling his heels in the brig until charges could be brought. His side of the story was that he didn't think that there was a chimp alive with half a brain that would be interested in what was going on much less understand it. Chongo ignored the obvious bigotry of the man. The feeling was mutual between the species and didn't look to be changing anytime soon. Maybe the war would make some changes. Graves had thought different knowing that if the chimps or monkeys didn't understand they could still observe, listen, photograph, record, steal or God knows what and deliver their findings to someone who did. Some files had gone missing and also some vials. Nothing too specific on the vials except for being highly radioactive. Whoever stole them would be extremely sick or dead by now. Teams were out with geiger counters but hadn't found any signs of contamination.

It made Chongo sick to think about it. Bright, eager young chimps, trying to make a fast buck and have an adventure being used by Nazi spies. They probably thought it was all fun and games to spy on the "stupid humans". And their final payment was likely to be a pretty horrific death. Graves had to keep his men out of the search for fear of revealing that something was going on. "Start adding up pieces of the jigsaw and sooner or later you can guess the whole picture", he'd said.

Chongo grabbed the phone and asked the operator to conect him with the 6th precinct where his friend Drecker worked. If any dead or extremely ill chimps had hit the hospitals or morgue he'd be the one to know. "Better keep this on the quiet side," Chongo thought.
"Sixth Precinct, Drecker speaking", Drecker answered with a growl.
"Hey big boy, it's Chongo, time to pay up on that bet you lost. How's a hot dog in the park sound?"
"Sounds good, I need to get out of this lousy office anyway."
"See you at noon then", Chongo said and waited for Drecker to hang up. Chongo placed his "hand" over the microphone and waited for a few seconds. Sure enough there was a series of secondary clicks afterward. Either Groves, his men, or someone else had been listening in. Chongo was glad that he and Drecker had arranged some secret code between themselves back when they were on the force. Drecker would be waiting on the bridge in the park at about 1130. Chongo had discovered a spot below the bridge where he would be unsen but could hear what Drecker said and speak to him without anyone else being privy to what was going on. It would just look like a man waiting on the bridge to anyone else. Chongo could then slip around and meet him at noon for that hotdog. Chongo got hungry just thinking about it. Chicago has the best 'dogs in the world, well known fact!

Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Little Hawk
Date: 16 Jan 04 - 12:33 PM

Editors note: Excellent! I like it. Okay, it seems, according to Rapaire, that the Manhattan Project (as named by FDR) officially started in very early 1942 but that it had been going on unofficially in various ways since 1938. What the heck, this is a Chongo Chimp story, right? It's an alternate reality. So Chongo's 1940 Chicago/USA is very much like ours was at the time...but it's a bit different in some respects (a lot more talking apes around, for instance...oh, and monkeys too! Don't forget the monkeys or they'll get really upset.).

I don't see why we can't move the old Manhattan Project ahead by about a year...to Dec/40, shortly before Christmas. Sound okay, Rapaire?

This means our Luftwaffe pilot has escaped from Canada after getting shot down in the Battle of Britain and moved overseas by his British captors, and the USA and Germany are not at war yet...but there is vigorous espionage going on without a doubt, so Mr Brehme and 'Otto' and the rest of the German operatives must operate very undercover, to say the least.

- LH

Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Chief Chaos
Date: 16 Jan 04 - 01:47 PM

11:30 found Chongo at the park watching from a copse of trees for Decker to show. Sure enough Lance was there, trench coat and all. He didn't even need to look toward the street to know that the great banana was parked tenderly by the curb. He watched Drecker bite the end of a cigar and take a few puffs before slipping under the bridge.
"Didn't anybody tell you smoking is bad for your health?" Chongo said by way of a greeting.
"My wife, which you ain't, 'bout a million times, but in our line of work you're worried about cigars? I worry more about a severe case of lead poisoning," Drecker replied. "What's cooking short stuff?
"We, and I do mean we, have got some hot troubles brewing up. And I do mean hot. I need to know if you've seen any young chimps dead in the morgue or really sick at the hospitals from strange symptoms," Chongo said.
"I'll check around. What should I be looking for?" Drecker asked.
"I don't quite know myself, yet, but it's gonna be something really strange. Nothing like the flu or any disease you've likely seen. Just do me a favor and keep it quiet like, oh, and do yourself a favor and stay away from them if you find them."
"Chongo, what's going on?"
"Believe me pal, I'd tell you if I could, but I will tell you this, you don't want to know."
Drecker shivered in his overcoat. He and Chongo had been through some pretty hairy stuff and Chongo had never said anything like that before. "That bad?" he asked.
"Drecker if this goes south it could ruin your life as well as the lives of everyone else in this little slice of paradise." Chongo replied. "That's really all I can say, now how 'bout that dog? Just talking about it earlier has got me hungry."
"Sure thing, my treat. Settling that diamond / banana mess got the Captain off my back, so I owe you, " Drecker said as he shaved the ash off the dog ear, snuffed the coal and stuffed it in his pocket.
"I think I got it this time Lance. You may think you owe me but this is gonna be a huge favor I'm asking of you." Drecker let out a whistle and turned to walk toward the hotdog cart across the park. Chongo waited a few minutes and climbed back to his original spot in the trees. Good, if he or Drecker had been followed there was no sign of it. Of course it might mean that the tail was really good, he thought. He then took the arial route across the park so he could come in from the opposite side of Drecker. "Can't be too careful. After the dog he intended to visit someone who might know a thing or two about radiation poisoning. But right now that dog was whistling for him!

Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Little Hawk
Date: 16 Jan 04 - 10:57 PM

Editor's note: Well, Rapaire started off this idea about a caper involving the Manhattan Project's secret work in Chicago in 1942, so I guess he gets to call the shots on the timeline. Here's the scoop about the Italian scientist Enrico Fermi, who headed up the hidden lab in Chicago...

Upon the discovery of fission, by Hahn and Strassmann early in 1939, Fermi immediately saw the possibility of emission of secondary neutrons and of a chain reaction. He proceeded to work with tremendous enthusiasm, and directed a classical series of experiments which ultimately led to the atomic pile and the first controlled nuclear chain reaction. This took place in Chicago on December 2, 1942 - on a volleyball field situated beneath Chicago's stadium. He subsequently played an important part in solving the problems connected with the development of the first atomic bomb (He was one of the leaders of the team of physicists on the Manhattan Project for the development of nuclear energy and the atomic bomb.)

So...we've got a secret lab in an underground volleyball field (of all things!) under Chicago Stadium. Wild! And the first controlled nuclear reaction of an atomic pile is set to take place on December 2, 1942, almost a year to the day after Pearl Harbour...and Hitler's lunatic declaration of war on the USA which followed very shortly after the Japanese attack...thus solving a big problem for FDR, who certainly wanted to start fighting the Germans without delay.

Our story, therefore, had best be set in late 1942...say early November/42. This means that Lieutenant Brehmer (alias Hans Becker) and his new boss 'Otto' and the various other German agents will have been forced to adopt yet new identities...and are now disguised as...Dutchmen? Belgians? Or something like that...

The scene involving Leutnant Brehmer's escape across Lake Superior will have been a flashback to earlier events that occurred in December 1940. The poor, frustrated Messerschmitt pilot has been languishing in Chicago for nearly 2 years now, doing espionage work for 'Otto'! (His only real desire having been to return to combat with his squadron, which is now involved in desperate fighting in Russia, as the Stalingrad campaign moves into its final, disastrous phase...)

Sheesh! Oh, well, it was Rapaire's idea, like I said...

- LH

Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Little Hawk
Date: 17 Jan 04 - 12:35 AM

Jurgen Brehmer was in a lousy mood. It wasn't hard to see. He had become uncommunicative lately, terse to the point of rudeness. Right now he was seemingly staring a hole into his coffee cup, Bruno noted.

"What's eating you?" said Bruno. "You're as friendly as a caged leopard these days."

"A good comparison," commented Brehmer coldly, continuing to stare at his coffee.

"Huh!" grunted Bruno, noncommitally.

Martin smiled. Bruno had such a way with words. "I know what's bothering our hero, Bruno. He wishes he was in Russia right now, shooting down the damn Bolsheviks in record droves...don't you, Brehmer? His 11 little victories in France and England are as nothing now, when our experten are shooting down 100 ruskies...or 150...or more. Eh, Brehmer?"

Brehmer shot him a dark glance from his icy blue eyes. "A hundred and fifty dead Russians may not be enough, Martin. Perhaps not nearly enough. Have you gentlemen been paying attention to the news lately?"

"I have," admitted Bruno, "but you can't believe everything you hear in this damned country. Ninety-five percent of it is outrageous propaganda and the rest is sheer conjecture. The winter will be hard as always, but we'll tough it out and hold...just like last year...and when Spring comes we will whip their red arses right back to the gates of Moscow, and hang that bastard Stalin in his Kremlin with the rest of the murdering lot of commissars and hellhounds."

"Like we hung that bastard Churchill in London?" inquired Brehmer. "When we took the British parliament and burned Buckingham Palace last year after our glorious invasion?"

"Oh, for Christ's sake, Brehmer! If you are going to be completely miserable, sarcastic, and bloody-minded you can do it alone." Bruno threw down his papers angrily and stalked out of the room.

Martin puffed thoughtfully on his cigarette...he liked American cigarettes very much. "You're quite right of course, Brehmer. They're in a hell of a fix at Stalingrad. I know it. You know it. We all know it, but people don't like to talk about it. If this thing about the secret bomb is true, it is our greatest chance to turn the tide in a most unexpected way and win this war. It's absolutely vital. You do see that, don't you?"

"Yes," said Brehmer. "I see it plainly. And I hate it."

"But why?" expostulated Martin.

"I'll tell you why," replied Brehmer bitterly, looking straight into Martin's eyes with his jaw muscles clenched tightly. "Two reasons why. Number one: Suppose Otto is right. Suppose this strange uranium device can blow up half a city in a single burst. Suppose it is even much worse than that..."

He got up and walked swiftly across to the large map of Europe that was pinned on the wall. Someone had put little markers all along the fighting lines in Russia. They clustered around Stalingrad in a dense concentration...red for the Russians, blue for the Werhmacht. More markers stood in North Africa, where Erwin Rommel's fortunes of war had swung wildly back and forth in the past year from triumpth to disaster to further triumph and even greater disaster.

"Do you know what that would mean, Martin? A device like that falling on a city? It would be the end of a brave soldier's courage or usefullness. The end of moral decency of any kind. The end of meaningful service and justifiable sacrifice. The end of all measure of sanity. The end of whatever it is that keeps us human. That is precisely why I hate it. I wish I had never heard of such a thing."

"See this map, Martin?" He swept a pointing finger from the peninsula of Brittany sharply across to Warsaw...or what was now more like the ruins of what had once been Warsaw. "Europe is quite small...or it would be without that hellish morass of Soviet Russia in the East, stretching on forever and ever. What in God's name led them to attack Russia in '41? We were not finished with the British Empire yet, and they attacked the biggest country in the world. It was an act of madness! I tell you, if Gerd Barkhorn and the others shoot down 500 Russians apiece it may not be enough. And imagine, Martin...imagine what this bomb could do in a small country like Germany. This is an enormous country here, Martin, almost as big as Russia. This is a country that could arm the entire world from its factories, but look at our country. We are strong, but Germany is small."

"And that is why we MUST stop this American project now," declared Martin vehemently, jumping out of his chair. "We have to beat them to the punch or it's all over. But watch it...Otto does not like defeatist talk in the least, nor does he like anyone to question the wisdom of the higher-ups, and you know that."

"I know it too well," muttered Brehmer. "I heard they basically sacked 'Dolpho' Galland for questioning 'the Fat One's' judgement. The best ace on the Western Front and they kicked him upstairs...the last place for a man like him. He doesn't fly anymore in combat. Stupid bastards!"

"You really love the air force don't you, Brehmer?" Martin offered him a cigarette.

Brehmer took it, lit up, and took a long draw. His eyes were far off, looking across dappled skies at 5,000 meters, contrails streaming off the wingtips in a shallow climb. Checking the trim. Looking back for his wingman. Sun gleaming on perspex in a sudden rainbow display...

"Yes. Damn right I do, Martin. I should be there, not here. I am not a spy, but Otto won't let me go." He stood lost in thought, then shook his head and took another puff. "So...what is your new identity for this month?"

"Oh," laughed Martin. "I'm a Dutchman. Again! I almost begin to believe I AM Dutch. A Mr Van Schelde. I sell refrigerators, and I have a loving wife in Mexico who is probably screwing the greengrocer in my absence. And you?"

"I am a Pole," answered Brehmer wryly. "Imagine that. My name is Wally Krupinski, American-style Polish. Lovely name, wouldn't you say?"

"Indeed," agreed Martin, "...but, Brehmer?"

"Yes, what?"

"You said there were two specific reasons you hated 'it'. The uranium device. What was the second?"

Brehmer sighed deeply, sat down and rested his head in his hands for a long moment, then looked up slowly. His eyes were bleak and empty. "Did you see them?"

"Did I see who?"

"Who do you think? The monkeys Otto used. The...the little chimpanzees, they call them. Did you see them afterward?"

Martin didn't answer. He had seen them, and it wasn't something he wanted to dwell on or think about at all.

"I tell you, Martin, we are playing with fire here, but not your ordinary fire. It's Hellfire this time, my friend...and it's going to poison everything and everyone it touches. It has only just begun."

Martin said nothing, but looked down at his shoes, while Brehmer smoked furiously. They stood there in a morbid silence until Bruno came bursting joyfully back in and shattered the spell..."By God, gentlemen, it's my lucky day! My horse came in! Look at this. Panquitch by a nose! By a nose I tell you! Drinks all around, you poor gloomy bastards, and I'm buying. That'll put a smile on your ugly faces. It's Panquitch uber alles, and all is well with the world tonight..."

* * * * *

Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Rapparee
Date: 17 Jan 04 - 08:49 AM

Why, thank you. Thank you. I've been blamed for a lot of things, but never before for making history!

But then again, maybe I *did* make history, since I've decided that Solipsism is the Only Answer....

Couple quick corrections, though. First, it was a hand ball court, not a volleyball court. And the pile wasn't lit under THE Chicago stadium (there wasn't and isn't any such), but under the bleachers at Stagg Field at the University of Chicago. Gone now, that football arena honoring coach Alonzo Stagg, but there's a historical marker. No, it doesn't glow in the dark and you could live on the site of the old pile and not mutate.

Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Little Hawk
Date: 17 Jan 04 - 10:36 AM

Yeah, I thought it was the University of Chicago too, Rapaire, but I lifted that italicized quote right off a supposedly factual historical internet site about Enrico Fermi...boy, ya can't trust anyone these days! It makes a lot more sense to have a science project at a University than underneath a sports stadium. Thanks for the correction.

- LH

Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Chief Chaos
Date: 17 Jan 04 - 08:00 PM

Damnit, Damnit, Damnit!

I thought perhaps Chongo could run into a young Diane Fossy or Jane Goodall at the university (either as student or visiting lecturer. But doing my homework I find that they would have both been 10 years old at the time. I know there have been some young scholars but that's just too damn much! Arrrgh!!!!!

Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Little Hawk
Date: 17 Jan 04 - 10:26 PM

Editor's note: Too bad. That would have been very cool. Mind you, a world in which there are talking, cigar-smoking, humanized apes and monkeys all over the place as well as wild ones out in the bush would have put a young Diane Fossey or Jane Goodall in a rather different position in some respects, but I suspect their basic strong affection for primates still would have shown itself.

Chongo is a big fan of both of them. In fact this may partly account for his secret yen for the human female...or not. Hard to say. Naw...it's probably just those long, long legs...or the "grass is greener on the other side of the fence" syndrome.

Don't be in a rush on this story, guys...we've got all the time in the world to write it. Now where's Rapaire? We need some more atomic trivia...I wonder what that slippery scoundrel Otto is up to? Hmmm....

- LH

Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Peace
Date: 18 Jan 04 - 06:27 PM

Chongo sat down to contemplate life. Death, where is thy sting. He munched on snacks that tasted of hampster. Fast banana or not, Chongo was in a mood. A dark mood that matched the sky, the horizon of his life, the feeling one gets from a nuclear reaction at the cellular level. Micro-macrocosm: what's the dif. Life sucked on that grey, dismal afternoon in the Windy City. Where to from here, he wondered? And what was to come?

Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Rapparee
Date: 18 Jan 04 - 09:12 PM

The telephone rang. Not the regular phone, but the Special One. Rico answered.

"Doc? We found more stuff, sent it to Area 10. Good stuff. You should have some more by the end of the week."

"Thank you," he said, and hung up. "Good news," he said to the young man across from him. "There will be more slugs coming up from Oak Ridge by the end of the week."

"Oh, that's great, Doctor Fermi!" exclaimed the young man. "We've had the graphite blocks ready for over a week."

"Yes," said another, older man. "It's a long process, but this new uranium hexafluoride seperation is faster than the old centrifuge method. But...do you know where they're getting the uranium from?"

"Leo," Enrico Fermi said, "I understand that a very patriotic chap in New York had stored a warehouse of it away before the war broke out. He thought that we might need it, and he stored several tons of Congo pitchblend." He chuckled. "I understand that the FBI was quite surprised when they asked him for pounds and he offered -- for free, mind you -- several tons of high grade ore."

They all laughed at their mental pictures of what the poor G-man would have looked like.

"So, back to work," Szilard said. "Enrico, what do you think of this?" And on the blackboard he quickly wrote an equation.

"Interesting...interesting. If the moderators fail, then we could expect, maybe, the obliteration of a goodly part of Chicago."

"Or nothing at all. Or a puddle of radioactive chemicals."

"True, true. But if Albert is right, and he is you know, we might even set the atomsphere alight."

Szilard chuckled. "Well, that would certainly end the war!"

Fermi turned to the young man. "Do you think that you could get some students who would be willing to pour buckets of cadmium compound on the pile if the reaction got out of hand?"

Szilard said, "That's not very effective, Enrico."

Fermi sighed. "Yes, but it's the best we can do right now."

Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Little Hawk
Date: 19 Jan 04 - 12:38 AM

Ursula Neuhoff was a fine looking woman, no question about it, and she was an excellent agent as well. Otto was looking forward to seeing her again. He had plans for the evening. Ursula had been placed in the Chicago area five years earlier, in '38, back around the time of the Sudeten crisis in what had been Czechoslovakia for 2 short decades, but was now part of the greater Reich. It was most satisfying seeing these bastardized little nations that should never have come into existence at all being amalgamated into Europe's greatest nation, thought Otto, and it hadn't been done a moment too soon. Without an iron man like the Fuhrer at the helm, it would certainly never have happened at all. Otto had tremendous confidence in Adolf Hitler. He was unquestionably the greatest man of the century, perhaps of all time. "When this war is over," thought Otto, "those who fought hardest to realize the Furher's dream will be the ones most highly rewarded...and I shall be one of them."

He knocked on Ursula's apartment door. No answer. Where was she? He had been most explicit about the time, and he expected nothing less than absolute punctuality from his agents. He knocked again, louder.

"Who is it?" came her voice, faintly. It sounded like she must be in the washroom. Probably seeing to her makeup. They're all the same, he thought.

"It's Kris Kringle, who do you think," he snapped irritably. "Open the door."

There was a brief pause. Then he heard the door click, and she opened it. "Good evening, Mr Kringle," she said airily. "Don't you usually come by the chimney? This is America, you know, and appearances must be kept up. Besides, you're over a month early, I believe."

Otto glared at her. He was unamused. "Well, come in, then," she said evenly, in an I-don't-really-give-a-damn sort of way, and she walked over to the cabinet and started mixing herself a drink. "I suppose you want one too?" she asked.

"Yes, I'll have one of course," said Otto, attempting to match her studied indifference. Clearly she was not in an amiable mood tonight. That was damned inconvenient.

He studied Ursula carefully through narrowed eyes that burned with a pale inner light...not an obvious light, but a dangerous one. The woman was gorgeous, long-legged and poised, ash blond, a real "looker" as the Yanks said, and she knew it all too well. She was as hard as a yankee silver dollar and had probably been touched by about as many hands in her time, he suspected...but discreetly, of course. Ursula was a clever little courtesan who knew exactly what she was doing at all times. If it was good for Ursula, it got done. If not, too bad.

"I'll take a double," he said.

"Ah!" she giggled. "You're learning more and more of the American tough guy expressions from the movies. That's good! People might even get the idea you are a tough guy..."

"People already have that idea, Ursula," he said in a silky voice, "and they are right. Don't ever doubt it."

"Oh, I don't doubt it at all, Otto...not in the least." She walked over and handed him his drink just as calmly as if she were arranging some flowers on a Sunday afternoon. "So, what is the news on the great "monkey" operation?"

Otto took the drink and looked at it carefully, as an archaeologist might study an ancient shard. This was how they did it in the gangster movies. He was deliberately stretching out the suspense. He sipped it thoughtfully. Not bad. She would make a good cocktail waitress in a fancy bar.

"It was a semi-success," he said at last. "We got a number of valuable items, but not as much as I had hoped for. By the way, they weren't all monkeys...we used some apes too. Small chimpanzees. They are surprisingly clever for such primitive creatures."

Ursula snorted. "They're filthy, disgusting things. This city is absolutely infested with the wretched creatures, everywhere you go. I detest them."

"So do I, Ursula, so do I, but they have proven useful. When one is in a battle for survival one uses whatever must be used. Once the battle is won, then one disposes of the trash. You will not see these creatures around in the New Order, except perhaps in a zoo somewhere. I promise you that."

"It can't happen too soon. Still, you say they did well?"

"Quite well. But we won't be able to use them again. The Amis are onto us, and that hole has been sealed. As for those particular monkeys...and apes...well, they won't be of any use to anyone again."

"You had them eliminated?" she asked, leaning forward with a quickening interest.

"I more or less had to," he replied. "They were exposed to very toxic materials, and were dangerous to even be around. They would not have lived long in any case. It was...unpleasant."

Ursula extracted a cigarette from a gold case. "I didn't think you found killing unpleasant, Otto. You surprise me."

"I don't, Ursula. I rather enjoy it." (Otto relished delivering lines of that sort, and he watched carefully to see if it had the desired effect on her.) "I especially enjoy it when eliminating enemies of society...but these were just tools that had served their time. Nothing more. At any rate, that gambit is used up. We are going to have to find another means of either robbing them or destroying the project outright. Blow it sky high if necessary. We have to cut the head off this snake before it becomes venomous, and I have some good ideas how. I intend to tell you all about it over dinner in some quiet place. Your pick. You know the clubs better than I do."

She thought that over. "Alberto's then," she said. "They have excellent Italian food and booths that are quite private. Excuse me for a moment while I change into a better gown."

He got up and followed her in the direction of the bedroom, placing a hand on her shoulder..."Perhaps I can help you."

She stopped, looked at him cooly, took the hand in her own and removed it from her shoulder quite deliberately. "It's way too early in the evening for that, I think." She stepped into the bedroom and closed the door with an audible click and snick of the lock.

"Hell and damnation," muttered Otto under his breath. He wandered back over to the couch, nursed his drink and his general level of frustration, and gazed out the window at the lights of Chicago. What a city! It was big, brawling, dirty, vulgar, and full of energy, even with the war rationing in effect. American servicemen could be seen everywhere. The country was in a ferment ever since the Pearl Harbour raid, and they had apparently won a huge victory in the central Pacific back in the summer at some obscure little island called Midway. Bad news for the Japanese, who had stared out so well in the beginning. One could only hope that Japan would hold the line now...make them fight for every inch and every island, and keep them fully occupied while Germany dealt with Russia. It was becoming a desperate business...a bigger war than anyone had anticipated in '39 or '40. It was not clear to Otto why the Fuhrer had declared war on the USA after Pearl Harbour, but there must have been the most pressing reasons for doing so. One couldn't expect to know everything that was happening behind the scenes. Probably the Americans had intended a surprise attack of their own on Europe. They had already been clandestinely helping the British fight the U-boats in a totally illegal fashion! Yes, Hitler had simply decided to bring things plainly out into the light of day. It was worrisome, though. The USA had tremendous strength in men and machines and it was growing daily by leaps and bounds. The genii was truly out of the bottle. A number of his reports on American production figures had simply been rejected outright by Berlin. Some idiot in an office there couldn't fathom the straight facts he was feeding them, and at the risk of his own life. It was infuriating! If only he could go to Berlin and talk to Hitler himself, face to face...then something would be done.

"I'm ready." He turned. Ursula was wearing a simply stunning burgundy gown, low-cut, pearls at her throat. Marvelous. She was right, it had been too early in the evening. His mistake. He'd been cooped up too long.

"Excuse me for my impetuosity, Ursula," he said, bowing slightly. "I don't know what I was thinking. Too many long hours in the office waiting for information to come in, I suppose, and not enough down time."

"I accept your apology, Otto," she said lightly. "Let's go and have a simply delicious meal, and some champagne, and you can tell me all about exactly how we are going to blow Mr Enrico Fermi and his crew of expatriate saboteurs off the face of the planet."

"Amen to that," he agreed, offering his arm. "To the devil with them all." She took it, and they went out to the street to hail a cab.

- LH

Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Amos
Date: 19 Jan 04 - 03:42 PM

Ach, LH, me hat's off to ye!! Truly a raconteur of the first order!

A

Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Little Hawk
Date: 20 Jan 04 - 01:01 AM

Lance Drecker was very curious as to exactly what Chongo had gotten himself mixed up in this time, but he respected Chongo's need to keep it under wraps for the time being and he didn't press the matter further. He didn't have to, because he was not aware of any crime being committed as yet. He would definitely start looking for sick chimps, though. Small sick chimps. Maybe dead ones. There was one other matter that needed talking about. Drecker finished his hot dog, lit up a fresh cigar, and took a drag on it. "You remember Kerchak?" asked Drecker, blowing a smoke ring.

"Yeah," said Chongo. "You bet I do. You don't forget a face as ugly as that one. What about him?"

"He's back out on the street. Since Saturday. Back in the bosom of the North Side Gorillas. I thought you oughta know about that."

"Is that right? Hmmmm. Should I be worried?"

"Maybe you should." Drecker stroked his chin pensively. "I got news through my sources at the Big House that he was promising to get even with you as soon as he got a chance to. He is one bad ape, that one, so I'd watch my back if I was you."

"Thanks for the tip," said Chongo. "I will. I always do. You figger it's just personal or do I gotta watch the whole North Side mob?"

"Naw," said Drecker. "It's strictly personal. The North Side boys got no reason to be on your tail any more. It's just Kerchak's business. Of course, he might have a couple of friends to help him out. You never know. But he's an arrogant son of a bitch, so he'll probably figger he can handle it alone."

"Just what I need," grumbled Chongo. "I got more important fish to fry right now than some lamebrain gorilla with a chip on his shoulder. I guess he figgers the bash on the head he gave me don't count."

"Kerchak doesn't figure much," responded Drecker, with grim humour. "He's a simpleminded killing machine looking for his next felony charge. I wish we coulda kept him in longer, but he plea-bargained his way into a short sentence, and actually reduced it with good behaviour, if you can believe that."

"Hmmm. Good behavior, huh?" Chongo was surprised by that. It hadda be a first for Kerchak. It only meant one thing...Kerchak had had a very strong motivation to get out as soon as possible, and that meant only one thing in this case...he'd been counting the days left till he could get out and kill Chongo Chimp for kicking him in the coconuts. Simple. Kerchak's mind was a book you could read in 10 seconds or less without even bothering to turn the page. Like one of those Tarzan and Jane books they inflicted on the little chimps in grade school.

"See Tarzan. Tarzan has a ball. Look, Jane! Tarzan is throwing the ball. Throw, Tarzan, throw! Will Jane catch the ball? Oh, look! Jane dropped the ball! Tarzan must teach Jane to catch the ball. Teach, Tarzan, teach Jane!"....GAAAAH!

That stuff was mind-numbing, but they kept on repeating it regardless, year after year, torturing generations of innocent little primates. Human see, human do. Typical. No self-respecting ape would write stuff that stupid. Well, maybe Kerchak would...if he could write at all, only Kerchak would write something more like: "Tarzan not like Jane drop ball! Tarzan kill! Bundolo!!! Oh, look! Jane dead now. Too bad for Jane!" Chongo chuckled as he thought of Kerchak's version of Grade 1 English.

"What's the laugh?" inquired Drecker.

"Oh, nothin'," said Chongo. "I was just thinkin' of the dumb look Kerchak is gonna get on his face when I get the drop on him, and he lands his fat face in the "monkey farm" again. Anyway, I think I better drift. We've caught up on what we need to for now. Call me if you get any news at all."

"I will," said Drecker. "Watch yerself, short stuff."

They shook hands, and Chongo swung easily up into a handy tree and made off for the other side of the park, leaving barely a rustle of leaves in his wake. Those chimps sure knew how to get around. No one but another primate could really tail a chimp on foot when he wasn't wearing his shoes.

Drecker threw down the butt of his cigar and ground it out, took one casual glance around, saw nothing unusual and headed for the Bananamobile, which sat glistening by the curb in all its early 30's magnificence. There were several apes and monkeys standing around admiring it from a discreet distance, and they looked at Drecker with something like admiration as he walked up. There was a man who respected primates, and had dealt on friendly terms with the King. You didn't meet too many like that. Drecker was on the level. He was a straight shooter.

Drecker tipped his hat slightly to them and got in. It paid to have good relations in ape town. Too many fools on the force had no conception of that, and they paid the price for it by getting no help or cooperation whatsoever from the simian crowd, which was exactly what they deserved for their bigotry. A dumb cop was the same as a dumb ape...you couldn't tell him anything he hadn't thought up himself, and what he had thought up wouldn't fill a small teacup. Drecker started up the Cadillac, which emitted a deep   throaty purr. He pulled away from the curb and eased into the passing traffic. Time to make a few phone calls and see what turned up. Something would. It was just a matter of time and persistence, and Drecker was nothing if not persistent when he put his mind to it, which was just about always.

* * * *

Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Chief Chaos
Date: 20 Jan 04 - 01:35 PM

Chongo sat and considered his next move as the dog settled in his stomache. Hell and Damnation! Looking for spies, dead, sick and highly "contagious" chimps, and now Kerchak was on his tail as well. One thing after another he thought. Well, can't do much about the spies or Kerchak, 'least 'till he shows his hand. Wouldn't want to be the instigator in that tango. They'd slap me in the big house even if a pre-emptive strike was the best way to go. Better find out a little more about radiation sickness.

With that thought he headed for the University. maybe some student would be hanging around that he could harrangue on the side without drawing too much attention.

By the time Chongo got to the University it was early evening. He wasn't worried about finding someone working late. People interested in the latest theoretical applications of science weren't the most likely to have a date much less a life. Sure enough there were lights on in the lab building. Chongo took the roof route and in seconds was down in the bowels of the building. The corridors of the science department smelled of dissinfectant and stale chemical experiments. Chongo suddenly understood why most of the progress made in these fields was made by humans. With a sharper sense of smell no chimp on earth would want to be around the building much less the experiments. The stringent white painted walls with the pale brown patterned floor were also enough to make a gorilla gag and were hurting his eyes. Chongo passed one lab after another looking for a female professor or student. He'd found that the female of the species was much more curious and although perhaps repulsed by the appearance of an ape, was a little attracted as well. They were much less likely to be jealously hording their knowledge than the males and less likely to yell for security.

Chongo found one in nearly the last lab. He eyed her speculatively through the wire impregnated windows. Small and demure, curly hair where straight blonde tresses were currently the rage. glasses and sensible shoes were the only personal clothing items he could see as all else was covered by her lab coat. Chongo took a deep breath (instantly regretting it from his smarting sinuses) and entered the room, loud enough to attract her attention but not enough so that anyone else would hear.

Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Chief Chaos
Date: 20 Jan 04 - 03:08 PM

Chongo was amazed. Here he'd made enough noise to wake the dead and still she was bent over her work ignoring him completely. Well, he considered and grinned, don't know what else I expected.

Chongo cleared his throat and said, "excuse me?"
"Can I help you," the student replied, still leaning over her lab table and ignoring him.
"I hope so," Chongo said, "I'm a freshman researching the effects of radiation on living organisms. I know I should start in the library but I figured an upperclassman might give me a few titles that I could start with. Sort of narrow down the list a little."
"Well, I could give you a few names but I think you would probably do better to look at the photographs down in the medical section, she replied. "They had an excellent essay done a few years ago with a test subject exposed to too many x-rays."
"Thanks! Thanks alot! That's just what I need! Chongo said as he headed for the door.
"Your'e quite welcome Mr. ...." the student said standing up and turning around just intime to see Chongos hand swing the door shut behind him.

Chongo went to the hall directory and quickly found his way to the medical lab. The hallway was dark and silent. "Medical students," he thought, "always too busy partying to put in extra hours." Chongo had to jimmy the door with his lock picks but gained entry quickly. If the science hall had been abd this room was ten times worse. Chongo detected at least three different corpses by smell alone and various other bodily parts and speciments in formaldehyde. Chongo made his way across the darkened room by the starlight coming through the windows to the bookcase on the far wall. He pulled his flashlight out of is pocket and began looking through the case studies. He found it quickly and drew it over to the windows where a little extra starlight would help him see.

It was all there in horrifying color. The lab animal in the test had been overexposed. Picture by picture, frame by frame, the study documented the grusome death from radiation poisoning. The hair and teeth falling out, blindness and pain, the grizzly scaring and open wounds that wouldn't heal. The hotdog tried to make a return trip but Chongo held it down. "Got to stop this!" he thought as he put the study back. Well, at least I have the info to tell Drecker now," he thought grimly.

Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Little Hawk
Date: 21 Jan 04 - 04:32 PM

Editor's note: Hello, fellow writers! It seems that Rapaire, who started off this new edition of Chongo Chimp, is busy for the next week with moving. This will necessarily limit his available time for input into the story. Not a problem, because there's no time limit on when we have to finish it, but keep it in mind. Rapaire is providing much of the expertise on the Manhattan Project. We'll all do the best we can in the meantime...

- LH

Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Chief Chaos
Date: 21 Jan 04 - 05:03 PM

I want to apologize for the misspellings in my last few posts. I have to move fast before someone offs my characters or does something else and sometimes I don't use the spell checker like I should. Last time someone gave Drecker a wife and kids when I was about to write in a bit about him and Chongo going to Bali when the adventure was over. I figured two hard bit characters like them wouldn't be able to hold onto a wife. One of the hazards of the business.
Good story so far!
Don't be afraid to use Drecker where necessary. Just remember that he is trying to keep up appearances of a gruff policeman dealing with a lowlife private dick. They're really chums but appearances matter.

Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Little Hawk
Date: 21 Jan 04 - 06:03 PM

Nobody is going to "off" Drecker. He's in these stories forever. I'm the creator of Chongo, and I guarantee it. I have already advised our writers not to kill other people's characters off without getting their permission first. I had to lay down the law after people started blowing everybody away in 3 pages or less in the first story... :-)

I can see Drecker having a wife and family...or not...it works either way. Too bad the Bali trip didn't work out though!

- LH

Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Chief Chaos
Date: 21 Jan 04 - 10:45 PM

Chongo was dead tired by the time he got back to his office. More than that he was hungry! Chicago hotdogs might be the best but they don't last forever especially after completing the roof circuit. Chongo checked his office door carefully before opening it. No need to get careless. No wires, no problems, this time. He crossed the office to his "new" old mahogany desk. Chongo had picked it up at an estate sale. New was in and no-one wanted such a mahogany monster anymore, no-one except Chongo who was a little tired of being shot at and blown up. The mahogany was heavy and solid, bullet proof and with a little bit of plate steel and some screws it was a decent bomb shelter. Chongo hoped fervently that he never actually needed it. He felt the heavily padded leather chair and longed to sink into it. If it hadn't been for his stomache talking to him he would have probably would have, greatfully and awoken in it the next morning. "It wouldn't be the first time," he thought.

Instead Chongo crossed to the kitchen and peered into the ice box. Damn! Empty again! "Honestly!" he thought, "I've got the bread to buy the cabbage, now if I'd only taken the time!" Slamming the door he turned away towards the bathroom. "Gotta freshen up if I'm gonna go out and not attract attention." Feeling a little better Chongo put on his overcoat and hat checked the load in his .45 and turned out into the night

A few blocks down the street was a late night diner where he knew he wouldn't have to worry about trouble. Jackie, the waitress, might not be pretty, but she could deal with a drunk gorilla in a heartbeat. She was a kindred spirit although Chongo hadn't worked up the nerve to ask where those bulging biceps had been and what they'd been doing before she found work at the diner. Chongo sat down and ordered a cup of coffee and a ham on rye with chips, dill slice on the side. Jackie brought the coffee while he waited for the rest to arrive and began cleaning glasses. Chongo wasn't actually used to brightly lit, clean places. "Ah, the life I've chosen," he thought darkly. His sandwich and chips arrived while he was still studying the diner. As Chongo reached down to get his first bite he heard the door to the diner open, the little bell ringing cheerily. The next thing he knew he had bluesuits on wither side of him.

There was a hand on his arm as he reached into his coat for his .45. It took him a moment to identify the first man although the second remained unknown to him. Jackie shot a glance at Chongo, but Chongo waved her off.
"Evening, Dickie," Chongo said, "who let you out of your cage?"
"Smart mouth, chump. Too bad you ain't got the brains to keep it shut."
"Now, now Dickie, I thought we were friends, all in this together like," Chongo said, nonplussed. Dickie's face turned beet red. "Friends with a damn dirty ape like you?!" "Not likely and don't you ever say that again!"
"Well, if you ain't here to join me for dinner, what are you here for?"
"I just wanted to let you know that you can forget this case, furball. I finally got the job that shoulda been mine in the first place and Me and my boys are gonna put it to rest. Not you or any other primate! I twas a good thing theat the man couldn't tell emotions in a chimp's eyes or he'd have run shouting Bundalo! at the top of his voice. He didn't even know what kind of thin ice he was on. Chogno was tired of this treatment and come the day he was going to set things straight with this man personally. Chongo took a deep breath and said, "What about your boss? He already has me on a pretty good retainer."
"Just give it to me," Dickie smirked, "I'll tell him you reconsidered and put the money back in Uncle Sam's bank where it belongs."
"Not likely," Chongo parroted back at him, "One, I know too much already, you're not likely to let me stay free with that knowledge. And two, I don't back down. That's why your boss came to me in the first place. So if you'd kindly remove yourself from my sight before Jackie back there decides I need some help from her friend Mr. Thomson, I'd like to finish my dinner."
Both men visibly paled as they heard the bolt lock home and began moving as Jackie came out from the kitchen with the gun levelled at them.
"You've been warned hairball!" Dickie said over his shoulder as he reached for the door, "I promise you're going to regret this!"

Jackie put the gun on a shelf below the counter and went back to cleaning drinking glasses. Chongo finished his sandwich and coffee at a leisurley pace. Jackie found a sawbuck on the counter after he left. Jackie smiled and stuffed it into the top of her blouse. She enjoyed the weight and heft of the sub-maching gun and loved the stacatto rhythm when she got to use it, but good tips were always welcome.

Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Little Hawk
Date: 21 Jan 04 - 11:33 PM

Oh...yeah! Love it. You bin readin' your private eye stuff, Chief...

We have just gotta get Dickie and Kerchak together some day...they got so much in common, those two, and they would just hate each other.

Oh...when apes are alarmed they yell "Kree-gah!" It means "Look out!", "Danger!", "Beware!", "Heads up!" and so on. "Bundolo!" means "Kill!", "Maim!", "Destroy!", or "I'm gonna kill you!"

"Gom!" means "Run!" Therefore..."Kree-gah! Gom! Gom!" basically means "Holy shit! Let's get outta here!" Gom is pronounced like Rome.


- LH

Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Little Hawk
Date: 22 Jan 04 - 01:37 AM

Otto was in a good mood. A rare treat. He had been to visit Ursula again last night and things must have gone well, thought Brehmer wryly. Otto was always in a good mood when things went well with Ursula. Funny how in spite of all the big important things one was supposed to have one's mind on...like fighting and winning a war...people's creature comforts still ruled them. Food and drink, shelter and sex...give a man enough of those and he was liable to remain quite reasonable. Deprive him of any one of them and he became thoroughly hard to live with...or work with.

Otto's good mood meant things would ease up a bit now for Brehmer, Martin, and Bruno, and that was good.

Brehmer had seen Ursula in the office a few times, though they had hardly spoken, and he had noticed her sizing him up from a distance. She had looked at him like a large hound contemplating its next meal. She must think he was the big war hero. This could be problematical if they ever found themselves alone together, because Otto regarded Ursula as his personal territory (whatever she thought about it), and the last thing Brehmer wanted to do was alienate the one man who could sanction and properly arrange his return to Germany. It was a very frustrating situation. He needed Otto, and he owed him, but Otto just wouldn't let him go. No...best stay away from Ursula altogether. That was the best policy. Brehmer didn't like her very much anyway.

There was someone else he did like. The girl at the bakery. They had spoken several times and he had the feeling she liked him as well. Brehmer was getting very lonely stuck in this huge American city where he knew no one except a few German agents.

Accordingly, he was pleased when Otto asked him to go out and get some food, and he went off whistling merrily.

Bruno raised an eyebrow to see that. "Well, well. The lad's somber mood has passed. Excellent! I was afraid we'd have either a duel or a suicide here if he got any grimmer," he joked. "What could it be that's got him perked up?"

"He must still be overjoyed that your horse won," quipped Martin, who was busily studying photographs of American aircraft production lines...long lines of P-38 Lightnings and B-17 Flying Fortresses. They looked like damned good airplanes to Martin. Brehmer had not had a chance to take on these high tech birds back in 1940.

"You think so...?" puzzled Bruno. Bruno was not the brightest light in Chicago, thought Martin, but he was still a good man when action was called for. And that could be any day now.

As for Brehmer, he'd not had sex or anything remotely like it in a very long time. So long that it had begun to assume a sort of mythical place in his cosmos. He had concentrated instead on keeping himself in peak condition, as a fighter pilot must, and he kept up a daily regimen of calisthenics and long walks when he could get away from his duties. Otto had a way of always finding one more thing for Brehmer to do, mostly office work of an utterly tedious nature, sifting through papers, endless papers...all of which proved in no uncertain terms that the USA was an industrial giant second to none. Far too many airplanes were rolling off those assemby lines to comfort Brehmer. Some of his old squadron mates might well be meeting them soon in the increasingly embattled skies over Western Europe. Apparently they were shipping hundreds of them to Russia as well, and the news from Stalingrad sounded worse every day. Troubled times.

But all these thoughts vanished from Brehmer's mind when he walked through the bakery door and saw Kathryn smiling at him. (He knew her name from the tag she wore on her blouse.) She was like a breath of fresh air. He blushed a bit, said "Hello, Kathryn," and tried to look busy examining the rolls and pastries.

"Hello yourself," she replied brightly. "Can I help you find anything? We have the most delicious cheesecake today. You should try it."

"Oh. Cheesecake is it? Well...yes. We could use some of that."

"Why not sit down and have a piece now with a cup of coffee?" She gestured toward the small tables at the front of the store. "I've seen you walking sooo briskly back and forth, and it's my opinion you could use a break now and then. How about it?"

"Well...yes. Why not? I will. Thank you." Brehmer walked over to the tables with his hands full of rolls and nearly fell over a chair while smiling back at her. "Idiot!" he thought, "I'm such an idiot!"
He sat down and tried to recover his aplomb. One roll had fallen on the floor. He wondered if he should pick it up or...

"Oh, I'll take care of that," she said, laughing merrily, and she scooped it up and deposited it in a wastebasket. "Not to worry," she said, as he began to apologize. "Really, it doesn't matter at all." Brehmer watched her in a state of wonder. She really was the most beautiful thing he thought he had ever seen. Very dark Auburn hair and grey-blue eyes and just a few freckles. A classic Irish girl of a certain type, very sweet and respectable. Not like Ursula. Ursula was bloody dangerous. This girl was the antithesis of danger. Why then was he afraid of her?

When she brought his coffee and cake she asked if she could join him. He was surprised and at the same time delighted.

"It's my break. I've got 15 minutes...or maybe a bit more if no customers come in. It's been slow today."

"Well, I'm glad of that, Kathryn. Really I am."

"You know," she said, smiling at him roguishly, "you have me at a disadvantage."

"I do?" blurted Brehmer. He was quite at a loss.

"I don't know your name," she said with a giggle. "Whereas you do know mine."

"Oh, of course! I do apologize! I am Jur...uh...I am Wally Krupinski. And you are Kathryn..."

"Kathryn McConnell," she replied. "Krupinski...that must be Russian or..."

"Polish," said Brehmer. "Well, Polish-American, really. And you are Irish, of course..."

"Part Irish. My mother is Italian, from the old country. My father is second generation. His parents came over on a boat from Ireland back in the 1800's. They landed in New York, then eventually came out to Ohio."

"That must have been quite an adventure," said Brehmer.

"It certainly was," agreed Kathryn. "There was great prejudice against the Irish at that time in America. So many were crossing over." (A bit like that with the apes and monkeys now, thought Brehmer, but he said nothing.)

For the next few minutes Brehmer sat spellbound as Kathryn told him all about her family, her own growing up in Chicago, her neighborhood and friends. He was getting a glimpse into another world, a world that seemed remarkably homelike and peaceful, a world that had little or nothing to do with the war that had brought him here.

"And what do you do?" she asked after a bit. "Besides keeping very, very fit," she added, eyes twinkling.

"I work for a jewelry engraver," said Brehmer. He had to say something. "It is machine jewelry engraving. Really quite simple. It's a temporary port in a storm."

"And what would you like to do?"

"I...I would very much like to fly," said Brehmer. It was the truth, but not in the way she would take it.

"Oh, so would I," she said enthusiastically. "Wouldn't it be wonderful. Oh, but look at the time...I have to get back behind the counter now, I'm afraid. It's been lovely talking to you, Wally. We must do it again."

"Yes," he said, getting up and giving a slight formal bow. I should like that. In fact..." he took a deep breath. "I wonder if you would do me the honour of going out to...a show, as they say?"

"Why...I'd be delighted! How about on Sunday? Is Sunday good for you?"

"Sunday is perfect for me," said Brehmer. It damned well better be. No matter what Otto had in mind. "Shall I meet you here...at..."

"Two O'Clock," she said. "Meet me at the front door at two O'Clock."

"Absolutely," said Brehmer. "Two O'Clock sharp. Sunday."

He went to the counter and paid for his cake and coffee, mumbled a few more things which he couldn't remember afterward, and left walking on clouds. At least 10,000 meters high, that's what it felt like.

Kathryn watched him go. The other girl, Norma, observed her closely. "Good lookin', isn't he?" she commented.

"I think he's the most beautiful thing I ever saw in my whole life," said Kathryn, very quietly.

Norma shook her head and grinned. "Girl, you've got it bad. If it don't work out, at least give me his phone number after you get over it."

Brehmer was three blocks away when he realized that he still had not bought any food to take back. He plunged into the nearest store, bought a general assortment of whatever looked half reasonable and headed for the office, double-time.

* * * * *

Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Chief Chaos
Date: 22 Jan 04 - 09:37 AM

Robbie the Robot says: "Danger Will Robinson! Plot Complication imminent! Danger!"

LOL!

Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Leadfingers
Date: 22 Jan 04 - 09:18 PM

More More More I got to have my Chongo fix on a regular basis!

Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Little Hawk
Date: 22 Jan 04 - 10:28 PM

Well, it's nice to know someone is out there enjoying it... :-) One wonders at times.

* * * * *

It felt good to be out of the damned Monkey House at last. Real good. Kerchak scowled darky from under his heavily projecting brow ridges as he contemplated the many horrible things he intended to do to Chongo when he got hold of him. He would destroy Chongo in every way simianly possible, but first he would torture and humiliate him, subjecting him to grotesque indignities.

Fairness was not an item in Kerchak's personal philosophy. Getting even was. Not for a moment would it have occurred to him that his bopping Chongo on the head and then apeknapping him and then presenting him to the none so tender mercies of Big Daddy Malone the psychotic orangutan had given Chongo a perfectly valid reason for kicking Kerchak in the coconuts and then escaping. Not on your life. That had nothin' to do with it. Chongo had kicked Kerchak and he was gonna pay. Big time. Kerchak was gonna fit Chongo for a wooden kimono.

Kerchak had resumed his usual place among the North Side Gorillas, where he was considered useful for busting heads and shaking down poor saps for protection money. Mostly they were just little shopkeepers and bar owners, both human and simian. They were easy meat for Kerchak. He never failed to get the desired results. Right now though, business was pretty quiet and Kerchak had some spare time on his hands. He planned to use it putting Chongo on ice. Permanently. But it had to be done the right way.

"Gimme a drink, Solly," growled Kerchak. The howler scrambled to obey and had a drink ready within seconds. He didn't like the look in Kerchak's closeset little red eyes. Solly was a gopher, a sort of bellhop for the North Side Gorillas. He didn't get much respect, but the pay was not bad. And the problem was, you didn't leave the North Side Gorillas, except in a pine box. Solly had made his choice and he had to live with it now.

"You know what I'm gonna do to that lousy shamus, Solly?" said Kerchak, low and mean.

"Whaddya gonna do to him, Kerchak?" piped Solly nervously.

"I'm gonna grab hold of him with these mighty hands of mine!" Kerchak grabbed Solly by way of demonstration and shook him like a leaf. The howler emitted a strangled squeak.

"And then I'm gonna beat in his brainpan!" Kerchak waved a fist in front of the terrified howler.

"But then..." Kerchak paused dramatically.

"Wha...whaddya gonna do then, Kerchak," quavered Solly, with his eyes popping nearly out of his head.

Kerchak dropped Solly in a wooden chair, where he huddled shivering, and stood over him.

"I'll tell ya what I'm gonna do, Solly. I'm gonna tie him up and light matches under his little chimpy feet. I'm gonna burn off all his little chimpy hairs one by one. I'm gonna cut off his little chimpy ears...and then..."

"And then?" whispered Solly, staring up as if hypnotized.

"And then I'm gonna knock him off. I'm gonna pop da sucker. I'm bonna bop da jerk. I'm gonna rub him out. I'm gonna croak da little bastard. I'm gonna blip him off. I'm gonna pump metal t'rough and t'rough da little mango picker till ya can see daylight between his ribs wit yer eyes closed!"

That was putting it pretty plainly. Solly stayed very still and tried not to look at all like a chimpanzee.

Kerchak stood there, breathing heavily for a bit. Then he said, "Fix me anudder drink!"

Solly sprang out of his chair like a jack-in-the-box and began fixing another drink at amazing speed. Kerchak liked Banana Bangers, tall and strong. Solly was good at making them just to order.

"I guess maybe you wonder why I'm tellin' you all this," said Kerchak.

"Um, me? Wonder? Well, I...um.."

"I'm tellin' you all this, Solly, because YOU are gonna help me set Chongo up."

"I am?" said Solly, hesitantly. He put the new drink on Kerchak's table very gingerly.

"Yeah. Dat's right. First you find out what Chongo's up to dese days. He's prob'ly on a case. Or maybe he ain't, but he will be. Find out what case. See if you can feed him some useful information. I don't care what it is, just so's you find out what he's doin'. That gives me an in. Den we set him up and we set him up good. Can you do dat?"

"Oh yes!" piped Solly, feigning great enthusiasm. "Solly can do that for Mr Kerchak! Solly will find out what Chongo is doing and report back."

"Good," said Kerchak. "Dat's all I need ta hear. Now breeze off!"

Solly was gone in an instant. You couldn't see dust for that howler.

Kerchak finished off his second drink slowly, relishing it to the fullest. A couple of years in the monkey farm and you could really build up a taste for this sort of thing.

* * * * *

Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Chief Chaos
Date: 24 Jan 04 - 07:26 PM

Sveral days of searching and Chongo had gotten nowhere. At a hundred a day and little to show the General was bound to call it all off and then throw him in a holding cell for the duration of the war. And depending on how hard the power's that be might want to cover their little problem up, he might not see sunshine again. maybe it was time for a trip south, perhaps Bali. He'd heard some nice things about Bali. No...he wouldn't run, he wouldn't back down. As much as this was starting to aggravate him Chongo would see it through. He was just about to check out the inner lining of his eye lids when there was a knock on his office door. He was about to say "Come on in, it's open," when two of Chicago's finest came through the door with guns drawn and levelled at him.

"Chongo Chimp?" asked the taller of the two.
"Yeah, that's me," he replied
"You're under arrest!"
"On what charge, officer?" Chongo calmly replied.
"Who knows," said the other, "Drecker said to bring you in, so wer'e bringing you in!"
"I think you might have got the wrong message, boys," Chongo said al little amused.
His amusement didn't last long as the tall one circled behind him, pushed him forward on to the desk and slapped him in cuffs.
"Quiet you!, don't give us any trouble or you'll regret it," replied the shorter one.
With Chongo in cuffs the policemen frog marched him down the steps and into the squad car. If Chongo hadn't known to duck his head he'd have gotten a nasty knock to his brain as they shoved him in the car. The policemen burned rubber away from his office with lights blazing and siren wailing.
"This is gonna do alot for my reputation," Chongo thought.

Chongo was in a holding cell for twenty minutes before Drecker showed up to let him out. Chongo had actually been rather enjoying the show from the other cells where and old crook was teaching his fellow inmates all about picking pockets and looking innocent.
"Sorry Chongo", Drecker said as he dusted his friend off, I asked to have a couple of officers pick you up so I could talk to you without arousing suspicion from whoever might be around."
"No problem, I figured it was something like that. You might want to have a talk with those two about inter species relations. They aren't gonna make it far in a town like this if they treat all ape kind like that.
"I'll take care of it," Drecker said with a grim look on his face. "You'd think that they'd teach that at their fancy new academies wouldn't you? I got no love for some of our frequent guests but roughing up the apes is only going to make the whole community uncooperative and fearful. Not to mention earning you a "mising persons" report when one of the larger gorillas gets you alone."
"Speaking of academies," Chongo said, "did you know that your guests, to use your own words, is teaching the others all the tricks of his trade?"
"You don't say?" remarked Drecker, "learn anything new?"
"Not really," Chongo replied grinning, "but you just might want to put a stop to it."
"Nah," replied Drecker, "I think of it as job security."
"If the crooks are dumb then you don't need smart cops."

Drecker escorted Chongo to a quiet interview room and got the both of them a cup of coffee.
"I wanted to talk to you about the case you're working on Chongo," Drecker said offering Chongo a cigar."
Chongo accepted one of the havannas offered and lit up.
"Found something did ya?" Chongo asked as he blew a few smoke rings.
"Nothing in the morgues or the hospital, so maybe there's some hope yet." Drecker replied as he lit his own stogie.
"Well you sure didn't get me down here for that."
"No, not that anyway, but I have been informed of a few "missing" young apes from all over the area." It doesn't give us alot to go on. If it's somehow connected to what you're investigating, it means that the bad guys are smart enough to know not to shop for pigeons in just one area."
"You got the names with ya?" Chongo asked.
"Yeah, names and addresses right here for you," Drecker said taking an envelope out of his pocket and handing it to Chongo. "I'd check out the last one first," Drecker said. "The parents clammed up a little after the report was made. Something strange about that. I can't follow up on it much more than putting out the APB but I thought you'd be interested.
Thanks, Lance." Chongo said stuffing the envelope in his pocket. "Maybe you could do me one more favor before you let me walk outta here."
"What's that?" Drecker said getting up and crossing to the door.
"Get me bak my .45. I'm rather attached to it, lots of memories you know. Your boys decided it might be dangerous for me to hang on to in the cell."
"Ignoring the fact that you could have torn their arms off if you'd wanted to huh? Dumbshits!" muttered Drecker.

Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Chief Chaos
Date: 25 Jan 04 - 12:59 AM

Chongo left the precinct with as much haste as possible. Drecker had offered a ride home but he had driven the "banana" again. Chongo could understand his keeping it on the one hand but on the other it sure did garner alot of attention wherever Drecker drove it. Chongo needed to be a little more anonymous than that.

Chongo was about to call a taxi and head across town when he noticed the black sedan with the out of town tags with two men trying to remain inconspicuous behind upside down newspapers. "Gonna have to do better than that boys," he chuckled and headed into the corner store. A buck slipped to the stock boy and Chongo was up on the roof in a couple of seconds. He was satisfied to look down and see the G-men were still watching the front of the store. "No wonder they couldn't keep the chimps out," he thought. He crossed a few roofs, ran down a fire escape and entered the building through the third story back window. Despite the fact that he was trying to escape the attention of his own government, who should be his allies in this case, he was actually having fun. Chongo had picked this building in particular because there was a connecting steam tunnel running from it's basement two blocks east to a local taxi company. No phone calls to be traced, nobody to see him on the street, and for another buck or two, none of the drivers would admit to seeing him in the garage.

Chongo road in relative comfort laying down on the back seat with a blanket over him, just in case, for a couple of miles. the driver checked his mirrors and gave the Chongo the all clear. The ride across town was not eventful and soon he found himself in front of the rowhouse of the missing ape. "Thanks Mac," he said to the driver, handing him a ten for a three dollar ride, "I wonder how long those boys will wait in front of that store before they realize they've been had.
The driver started making change but CHongo told him to keep it.
"Sure thing son," the driver said stuffing it into his shirt pocket.
"For that kind of tip I'll go back and tell them I just took you to the west side if you want."
"They might even pay you for the info," Chongo grinned.
"Naw Mac, they're confused enough as it is. Let 'em rest there for awhile. They probably need their beauty rest.
The driver grinned and drove off waving to Chongo as he made his way down the street.
Chongo waited a few minutes until he was out of sight and then walked a few blocks to his real destination. "Can't be too careful," he thought with a sigh.

He looked at the address in his hand and then up at the dingy letters over the front door. A little run down row house, but not too dingy, not for the district he was in. He climbed the steps and knocked on the door. He was thinking about what he was going to say, what he would ask when the door opened and he found himself face to face with Kerchak.

Chongo didn't even bother going for his gun. Kerchak could reach out and crush his head before his hand was could reach the .45 in his pocket. Strangely enough Kerchak made no move towards him and seemed a bit dazed as well. Chongo began backing away down the steps until he felt the business end of a thomson catch him in the back.
"Damnit, he thought, this guy must have been down by the stairs watching the street for Kerchak and I didn't even see him."
"You." Kerchak finally said, sounding rather tired.
"You want I should ventilate him boss?" the gorilla behind Chongo asked.
"No Nick, no, believe it or not after all the things I told you I was gonna do to him when I got ahold of him, I just might need him."
"Whatever you say boss," Nick replied keeping the barrel pressed into Chongo's back.
"Escort Mr. Chongo in and get back by the steps Nick," Kerchak said, turining and entering the house.
"Yeah boss," he replied and not too gently pushed Chongo with the thomson.
Chongo could have fainted from the confusion he was feeling. First he runs into Kerchak and then Kerchak doesn't kill him out right, and finally Kerchak says he might actually need him alive.
Nick escorted him to a side room that Kerchak had already entered. Kerchak was pouring himself a drink from a small sideboy. Nick pushed Chongo toward a a chair and then turned and left the room.

"Can I pour you a drink Chongo?" Kerchak asked, "got some real fine brandy here."
Chongo weakly nodded assent. Whatever was going on a good stiff drink couldn't make it worse.
Kerchak actually grinned at Chongo as he handed him his glass.
"Well well well, the mighty Chongo Chimp, private dick, at a loss for words. Never thought I'd see the day," Kerchak said, sitting himself in a chair across from Chongo. "Okay, since the cat seems to have your tongue I'll do the talking. First off you know I still hate your guts and would like nothing more than to crush you between my fingers right?" Chongo just nodded and took another sip. "Okay then, just so that's straight. I've been enjoying inventing new tortures just for you but for now I've gotta put that on the back burner. I got a call the other day about my niece being missing. I'm assuming that's why you're here?" Chongo nodded again and began feeling the warmth of the brandy penetrating his bones. Chongo, as much as I hate you, I love my niece. She's had me wrapped around her little finger from the day she was born. I know that's hard to believe coming from me but it's true. Guys like you and me, the life we live, dames for a casual fling are a dime a dozen but we're never gonna find someone willing to take on the rest of the baggage that comes with us.
"Why," Chongo asked, "I mean why did you choose this life in the first place if you figured that out, and by the way, no offense, but when did you get so smart?"
"Cammoflage, Chongo, cammoflage. If a gorillas' smart he's likely to have ambitions. If he's got ambitions then the bossman can't fully trust him. That gorilla will have enemies behind and a boss above him that would probably have a hit lined up for him if he gets too uppity. Acting stupid removes me from that situation. The boss thinks I'm blindly loyal. The other gang members think I'm too stupid to stop their ambitions. My only ambition is to get whats best for me. And being the boss is bad for your health, always gotta watch your back. I like what I'm doing and I like where I am, why screw it up?
As far as why I got into it in the first place. What choice did I have? Chongo when I got here from Africa there was already too many humans thinking we were just dumb brutes, fit for nothin' but heavy haul jobs. If I wanted a part of the so-called "American Dream" I had to grab it for myself, not work night and day for some slave driver in a sweat shop. Even if I'd been legit I wouldn't be much above just taking care of myself. If the humans hadn't been so damned blind and discriminating I might not be here. When my niece was born I swore that she'd have the best and not have to face the world that I did.
"Just when you think you've got a guy pegged," thought Chongo, "and now she's gone missing," he said out loud.
"Yeah, for a couple of days now, that's why you're here right?" Kerchak said.
"Yeah, that's why I'm here. I'm assuming you're why the parents stopped talking to the cops?"
"Yes, I don't think the humans really care about her anyway," Kerchak muttered.
"Well at least one does, guy by the name of Drecker, remember him? He's the one that put me onto this," Chongo said a little heatedly. Kerchak didn't need to know about the connection to the whole case.
"The flat foot that drives that banana caddy?" Yeah I remember him."
"Look Kerchak, you may not like me, and I'm not fond of you either, but I've never lied to you. This is bigger than your niece, alot bigger. There are quite a few othe missing kids, all of them primates. They were being used by some humans to lift some things and gather info. I can't tell you what but I'm trying to find them and hopefully find the kids too.
Kerchak eyed Chongo a little suspiciously, "You'll be looking for my niece then?" he asked.
"Yeah, I hope I find them alive, but Kerchak, I know you don't want to here this, but I wouldn't count on them being alive."
"What makes you say that, Chongo?"
"Again I can't tell you Kerchak, you'll just have to trust me on that."
Kerchak wilted a little. "Whoever these people are they'd best hope I never get my hands on them."
"I'll tell you what Kerchak, you and me got some bad history but I think we could both help each other out. There's too much territory for me to cover alone. If you could get some of your boys to help you look for all of the missing kids or anything unusual it would be a great help. I'll do my best to find these guys and when I do I'll give you a call and let you have first crack at them. What do you say to that Kerchak?"
"I'd say that's a bargain," Chongo, "truce?"
"Truce," Chongo said taking Kerchak's proffered hand.
Kerchack grinned again showing some pretty fierce canines, "just don't think that because we've got a truce between us that it means I wanna start showering with you or anything."
Chongo grinned in spite of himself.

Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Chief Chaos
Date: 26 Jan 04 - 11:57 PM

Chongo was busy preparing a status report for the General the next morning when the phone rang.
"Chongo? It's Drecker. Come on down to the station, I think we got something."
Chongo wasted no time getting down to the precinct house. Drecker hadn't sounded anything but tired which didn't bode too well for the kids.
Drecker met him out front of the precinct in an unmarked car
"what happened to your Caddy?" Chongo asked as Drecker pulled away from the precinct.
"She's in the garage. This is definitly one time I don't want to advertise what we've discovered."
"That bad?"
"Worse. A fisherman heading to his favorite spot on the lake came across a large patch of ground that had recently been disturbed. He figured that it would be easier to find some bait than have to dig through the hardened ground. Chongo, he found the kids."
Drecker said the last with barely a sigh.
"He made it to the hospital before he collapsed in shock."

It was a rather long drive in silence.

Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: GUEST,Dewey
Date: 27 Jan 04 - 01:02 AM

They strode up the wide stairs leading into Chicago General, hoping they weren't too late. As they pushed their way through the wide glass doors, a small kid, maybe a shoeshine boy, heading out through the same doors, slipped a small card into Chongo's hand and fled down to the street.

Chongo didn't slow in his stride for a moment. He glanced at the card.

Green print, pricey, linen, well-laid, embossed. "She will be back...." was all it said.

Chongo stuck it in his pocket, puzzled. But he had more important things to worry about at the moment. He followed Drecker into the elevator.

Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Little Hawk
Date: 27 Jan 04 - 08:44 PM

Otto was in a lousy mood. That wasn't unusual. His nerves were getting badly frayed lately, specially after having to quickly dispose of some badly contaminated primates. It was clear from the bits of information that were trickling in from Ursula that Fermi's group was nearing some kind of major breakthrough on the top secret Manhattan Project, and something drastic had to be done about it very soon. It so happened that Ursula, in the persona of a cosmetics salesgirl named Betty Melnicki, had succeeded in seducing no less than five American servicemen and/or officials. One was involved with radar development, another in the production of Lockheed P-38 Lightnings, another with naval intelligence, and yet another with the allocation of K-rations, of all things, to the troops overseas. No moss grew under Ursula, thought Otto cynically. It never had time to.

But the most important thing was her fifth patsy. He was an MP connected in a peripheral way with security at Stagg Field. It was from hints "Betty" had gleaned from this fellow in his weaker moments that Otto knew for sure that the project was nearing a crucial juncture. The future of the world was at stake. Otto could feel it in his bones, and he intended not to be found wanting when the time for decisive action came...as it must by very early December. And it was now mid-November.

The other matter that really troubled Otto was Brehmer. His dark and rebellious mood had altered totally. He was now cheerful and upbeat and seemed to have at least temporarily forgotten about his usual obsession...returning at the first opportunity to his bloody fighter squadron, where he would probably get killed within a few weeks or months. The news from Russia was increasingly bleak, and the Luftwaffe was losing men and machines at an unprecedented rate as Goering tried to do the impossible and supply the entire trapped Sixth Army by air! The fat fool had guaranteed it to Hitler. Now he was trapped in a web of his own making, losing his precious airplanes by the hundreds and presiding over what was beginning to look like a catastrophe.

But back to Brehmer. What in the world was on his mind? What did he have to be so cheerful about anyway? He had gone out to see an American movie on Sunday...a rare treat...a musical of some kind.   Otto didn't mind, because he figured Brehmer needed a break and would perform his duties more efficiently afterward. He wasn't the kind to get drunk to let off steam...like Bruno...nor did he lose himself in novels, like Martin. Martin was presently reading "The Grapes of Wrath" and enjoying it immensely. The man was becoming a real Americanophile. Matter of fact, Brehmer was too, it seemed. He and Martin were having long conversations now about the lot of migrant workers and the oppressed farmers and such...they were starting to sound like a pair of bloody communists! On the other hand, the Fuhrer had championed the rights of the "little people" on his way up too, thought Otto, but that was different. These American radicals had little or no respect for authority. They were vulgar and anarchistic, and their language was atrocious.

Otto had quizzed Brehmer thoroughly, and gotten nothing out of him whatsoever other than that he liked to take "long walks". The man was unquestionably a fitness freak, but one didn't get this cheerful by taking long walks. No indeed. Brehmer was hiding something.

And then there was the other incredible thing. Brehmer had quit smoking. Just like that. It had happened the day after his movie outing. Everyone was lighting up, and Brehmer didn't join them. He just sat there, going through his airplane magazines and humming a little tune to himself. Eventually Martin had offered him a Camel..."Say, Brehmer, try one of these and see what you think..."

"No thanks," Brehmer had said. "I've decided not to smoke anymore."

"What???" said Martin, and they all looked at the boy with disbelief. "Why would you do that?"

"Well..." said Brehmer, appearing to think it over carefully, "I just don't like it that much anymore. Besides, it is liable to weaken the lungs over time, and a pilot needs to stay at the top of his form. You need good lungs when you're pulling a few 'G's or you'll black out."

"What the hell?" exclaimed Bruno. "And when do you expect to be pulling 'G's? And what about your big hero, Adolf Galland? He smokes like a chimney. He even smokes his expensive cigars in the cockpit of his 109 for Christ's sake! And you say he's the best pilot on the Western Front."

"So he is," replied Brehmer evenly. "Galland is Galland. The one and only. He can smoke till hell freezes over if he wants to and it's no concern of mine. I am not Adolf Galland, I am Jurgen Brehmer and I have decided not to smoke. Period. Just wait and see," he went on, grinning, "You, Bruno, are going to spend every last dollar or deutschmark you ever get on whores, cigarettes, and cheap liquor and you will finally end up with nothing. I on the other hand will save my money, and when this war ends I'll buy a nice little house and start up a flying school in Schaffhausen."

Martin laughed. He was enjoying the new Brehmer's sense of humor. The fellow was a true oddball. Martin liked oddballs, they kept life interesting.

"Ach!" snorted bruno in disgust. "You're a bloody health nut, that's all. You lost your wits in 1940 due to breathing too little oxygen at 15,000 meters, and there's nothing to be done about it. To hell with you then. Don't smoke. See if I care."

Otto, peering sharply over his spectacles, had observed all of it, but had said nothing. It was very peculiar, and he meant to get to the bottom of it as soon as possible. He would have Ursula find out what was going on with Brehmer. Ursula was good at finding out things. She would unlock Brehmer's little secret in jig time. And then Otto would know what to do about it.

- LH

Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Chief Chaos
Date: 27 Jan 04 - 08:51 PM

Chongo held his breath as much as possible through the interview with the old man. When he did breath it was totally through his mouth although that didn't stop the smell from permeating into his nostrils. To him hospitals were worse than Chem labs with all the disinfectant and other wonderful odors to be had.

The questioning had been a little rough on Drecker and Chongo due to the fact that the old man had been tranquilized. Chongo also had to phrase the questions in such a way as to avoid giving away the ball game to the doctors and nurses buzzing about the area. Drecker might not know the effects of radiation poisoning but they certainly would. Chongo wished he could speed things up. Chongo was pretty certain that the old man had not receive a significant dose of radiation, but to be on the safe side he intended to inform the general when he made his next report. If the old man had been heavily dosed Chongo hoped they could do something for him.

Drecker got directions to the spot and radioed in for a unit to secure the area until they got there. Chongo wished he could think of something to discuss with Drecker. The silence was disturbing to him but nothing was appropriate. There might as well have been a rain cloud in the car with them.


Otto was on his way back to the cabin after another afternoon spent with Ursula . She was definitely a dangerous femme fatale and he was enjoying every minute with her. AS he rounded the bend his eyes widened to dinner plates when he saw the two police cars on the side of the road about a half-mile or so from where he'd buried the bodies of the primates they'd used. He'd not wanted to bury them so close but with no help and fearing contamination he'd done the best he could. The grave had been wide and shallow. He wished now that he'd had more time to camouflage the sight but it was too late now. The alarm bells were going off in his head and he knew it was time to clean the cabin and move to a new safe house. Otto had already selected several other sites throughout Chicago, they'd be okay for a while.   Unfortunately this would jeopardize the mission. Once the police figured out that the chimps had either died from or been suffering severe radiation poisoning and not the bullet to the back of the head that he'd had to administer to the few still breathing the American security forces would tighten so much that he doubted they'd be able to fart without it shrieking like an opera singer being chased by a mouse.

Otto reached the cabin and didn't bother to stop the engine of the car. He, Bruno and Martin         thoroughly cleaned out the cabin as well as they could and hit the road quickly. Brehmer had gone into town to see his American girlfriend. It pissed Otto off but they needed the pilot desperately. Things might not have hit the frying pan officially between the Americans and Germany but most Americans would not be willing to work for three foreigners in a job that threatened their own country. Help was at a premium.

As soon as they reached the edge of town they headed for the small store that Brehmer did most of his shopping in so as to maximize his time with Katherine. Brehmer was there still chatting her up as they pulled up to the curb. Otto left Martin in the car and headed in to collect Brehmer. As soon as Katherine saw Otto approaching she left the counter to do some chores around the store, leaving them in semi-privacy to talk.


"Wally come on, we have to go!" Otto said through his teeth.
"What's the matter?", you look like you've seen a ghost.
"They're onto us! We have to get out of here and head for the safe house on the old wharfs."
"I don't mean to argue with you but what could they have found to scare you so?" Brehmer asked him.
"They found the dead apes!" Otto replied.
From behind them came the crash of ceramic plates on the floor. Brehmer looked across the shelves into the very frightened and confused face of Katherine. He might have been able to convince her that she had misheard Otto, but Otto was suddenly so furious that he broke down into German. "Got En Himmel!" Otto shouted waving his arms, "why has this got to be so damned difficult?" He then drew his luger and pointed it at Katherine.
"Alright Fraulein, you've heard too much. I hope you really like lover boy here because you're coming with us."
Brehmer made as if to protest but Otto gave him a look that froze his blood. At least Katherine would be safe with him around which was much better than dead on the storeroom floor. Brehmer took her by the hand firmly and led her out to the car. As he climbed in beside her he whispered "Katherine, I'm so sorry!"