DRUNK MONKEYS

You could see this coming a nautical mile away.

A strange brew of Potable Pirate Pilsner Beer has permeated every pore of the two Monkeys.

"I can't move," moaned The Monkey.

"I just want to die," said his Mate. "Will I die?"

"If you're able to talk about it, you'll be all right," replied The Monkey.

"Will you hold my head? I think it's going to fall off," said his Mate.

"I'm busy holding my own head," said The Monkey.

"Call a lawyer, I think I should make out my will."

"Do I get all the bananas?"

"No."

"Then I'll get you a doctor."