published in Volume 2, Issue 3 on May 21, 1995
Cynthia peels the wedding dress from her lithe frame and falls onto the stiff motel bed. She didn't want to do this, why, she didn't even plan to do this, yet here she went and did it.
The bathroom door opens and in walks a gorilla dressed in a burgundy tuxedo. The gorilla curls his eyebrow and speaks in a suave, albeit husky voice. "Well baby, this is the moment we've both been waiting for!"
Cynthia doesn't know what to think. He really isn't a bad looking ape, and he has a nice demanor. The setting sun tinges his fur orange. She hops under the sheets.
"We have to hurry so I can get to sleep before midnight."
"Why," she asks.
"If I don't fall asleep by midnight I'll turn into an insurance salesman."
"God forbid. Let's do it."
They spend the remainder of the evening in ecstacy, until 11:30 PM, when the gorilla swallows two Sominex tablets and promptly nods off.
Cynthia has a dream. She dreams about primates. Thousands of cackling chimps in Pampers. Gorillas too. She has to change them all. There's not enough baby oil. The gorilla sits above her in a recliner puffing an El Producto. He shouts to her, "That's my girl, haha!"
She wakes the next morning to the smell of cologne. The gorilla is fitted in his best pressed summer suit.
"Where you going?" she asks.
"Get up, we've got mass this morning."
"You mean you're Catholic?"
She groans. "Oh God, not a Catholic."