Throw rocks at the monkeys

Why are you overthinking this? The monkeys are stupid, weak animals that will cower in fear of your human superiority. Millions of years of evolution led to this moment. You grab a rock, aim it and the critters and throw it with your anthropologically sophisticated arm.

You manage to hit the tree the monkeys were playing on. They stop. The animals jump into the branches above, dropping your bra into the leafy ground. Ha! Just as planned. Dumb monkeys, they are no match for your honed intellect.

You walk towards the bra, but before you are even halfway there, a fruit explodes near your feet. You look up, the monkeys have returned, and they are armed with ripe projectiles. “H-hey guys. It was just a prank! No need to do- Epp!” You jump, barely dodging another piece of fruit. It´s juicy innards splash against your bare legs.

The monkeys are not in a negotiating mood, they launch a barrage of fruit. Faced with such an unrelenting ****, you do the only thing you can and run away. Your feet trample the branches underneath in your mad dash, your breasts swinging freely as you try to outrun the persistent troop.

Yelping each time a fruit hits your back, you keep going. Who knew monkeys were such good shots? You are coated in so much fruit that you feel like a smoothie. Your feet keep moving forward. It doesn’t matter where you are going; all it matters is getting away from the animals.

…Or so you thought before you accidentally tripped into the small slope in front of you. You roll down while the monkeys stay behind to howl at your misfortune.

“I told you, kid, we don´t have fruit salad,” said the elderly woman in charge of feeding the campers.

“What kind of camp runs doesn’t have fruit salad?”

“What kind of camper wants fruit salad for breakfast?”

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH” You come rolling down the hill at full speed, crashing into a picnic mat set in the grass. The camp was too cheap to afford a proper cafeteria, so everyone eats in the grass and pretends that they enjoy having dinner under the stars.

Your momentum has stopped, but your head keeps on spinning. Sitting on the ground, you take stock of yourself. Everything is fine, only your pride is damaged. Ugh, you are covered in fruit pulp, juice and leaves are clinging all over your hair. You look and smell like a-

“Well kid, it seems you got your salad after all!” The giggles around you soon turn into full-blown laughter. Oh no, you crashed the camp´s breakfast, at least half the campers are staring at your sticky, sweet, exposed skin.

“I, em, was chased by monkeys and, and…” You meekly try to offer an excuse for your entrance, but soon realize it isn´t worth it. Nobody is listening to you, they are too busy laughing. You stand up, put your hands over your face, and run out with the laugher ringing in your ear.

You don´t stop moving until you hit the lake. Once in the cold water, you spend a few minutes scrubbing your skin and cooling yourself down. That was an experience that you don´t want to repeat.