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The recently reported gorilla sightings explain what happened since the last time I lost track of them. We were paddling up the columbia river on the flatboat and stopped to carry the boat up one of those salmon migration chutes when we ran into several bears who objected to our trespassing on their fishing grounds. Immediately after the gorillas had dismembered and eaten the bears, saving the skins, we were arrested by the tribal police of the Umatilla indian reservation who believed we were fishing on their land.

They brought us before a group of elders, and one of the gorillas got the idea of telling the elders that they were the descendants of Kennewick man and they had made a long journey to return home to their people and they brought bear skins as gifts. The elders were skeptical, but since nobody had seen kennewick man in nine thousand years, they didn't really know what he looked like, and they didn't want to risk offending long lost family.

So they held a big feast and things were finally looking good when the chief came up behind me and grabbed me by the arm. "This one I don't trust," he said to the elders, "Something about him. I think he's lying."

The elders agreed, but since I was traveling with their family members, they gave me a choice. They could turn me over to the state and federal fish and wildlife agencies for a fishing violation and make me fill out all that paperwork, or they would hand me over to a couple of the local AIM activists and have them take me out in the desert and shoot me. Contemplating that much government paperwork, I chose the quick death in the desert.

The AIM activists were doing bong hits the whole way and the pickup cab was filled with smoke, so I'm not too sure where they took me. They stopped at the base of a cliff beside a dry riverbed, pulled me out and threw me on the ground, then they realized that neither of them had remembered to bring any bullets. They took a few more bong hits while considering what to do, and they finally decided that they would be too ashamed to go back and report the truth to their grandparents, so they just left me there, figuring a white guy could never survive in the desert.

A few days later, I wandered into the outskirts of Spokane, where I heard the story about the whack-a-mole incident. A ten year old aspie anthropologist told me he had heard the gorillas mention something about a legend of a chipmunk god who kept disappearing unless he was given offerings of banana wine, and that was the reason they tore the machine apart.

As I was leaving chuck-e-cheeses, I spotted the gorillas across the parking lot standing in line at a movie theater. They were going to see "Mozart and the Whale." It was the only movie they could agree on, since the males thought it would be nature porn and the females thought it was a non-human chick flick. I missed most of the movie because one of the females got very friendly, telling me I wasn't like the other males she knew, but before the closing credits she had decided that I was thoroughly boring because I wasn't like the other males she knew. They left without me and I haven't seen them since.

I saw a report that was quickly removed from the local news that they had entered a casino in Las Vegas. They saw the pictures of fruit in the slot machines and thought they were vending machines, so they started smashing them open, but all they got was useless inedible money. Colonel Wayne Newton assembled the southern nevada militia, but they were unable to follow the gorillas because their stretch limosines could not travel off road. The northern nevada militia took over, but they couldn't keep up with the gorillas because their burros walked too slow.

There was a report that several stores were broken into in southern utah and a number of men's business suits and bicycles were stolen. I believe that the males have split up into pairs and are traveling north disguised as mormon missionaries so they can recieve support from the local population without being expected to say anything intelligent.

You've been very busy, CanyonWind.

Unfortunately, you have also been what we in the spy business call "off the reservation," or working on your own without any help from headquarters.

Sorry, but you've been demoted to Assistant Gorilla.

what happened next has been confirmed: The she gorillas left kareoke bar and headed north down main street. The police followed the gorillas in their police cars down main street only to be distracted by a donut shop's flickering neon sign and it seems they "lost the gorillas do to extraneous circumstances".

(And I'm off my meds ??????????????????????)

I don't understand what the problem is. I've been communicating regularly. One Winged Angel made me ten thousand copies of the Department of Defense's new Genetically Engineered Micro Homing Pigeons. They don't look anything like pigeons; they're little black things with six long skinny legs and they make a buzzing noise. Hang on, let me check the label...
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Do you have any idea what a "Biological Warfare Malaria Transmission Vehicle" is?

It's okay, SunTzu. I called up Bobby Mueller, the Chief of the FBI, and gave him a stern talking-to. You're off the hook.

And CW, those mosquitoes were meant for the Florida mission. That's coming out of your paycheck.

I've discovered a threat to the conspiracy!!

There's an Antiwerbert who wants to bring about the apocalypse!!

Quick!! ! we must act now!! Do we delete this imposter?? or blow him up with nukes??

That's not your department. Your job is to neutralize the Rally Monkey that lurks around your parts.

i'm confused, what am i?

oh, don't worry i've got him off somewhere planting orange trees.

Wait a minute. I thought we were plotting to nuke the central United States because nobody there cares about sock color. Now we're planning to prevent the Apocalypse? Did we get bought out by another conspiracy, or maybe traded in the conspiracy league? I didn't see anything about it in the news.