War for the Planet of the Magic Monkey Trees


The incoming Chimeric administration has promised to renew Chimerica’s infrastructure of Magic Monkey Trees overnight using ‘tragic beans’.
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Making Chimerica’s Magic Monkey Trees great again is going to need a lot of ‘tragic beans’, or, as experts call them, Radioactive Ape Turds.

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One thousand space monkeys who’ve been too near the sun then dosed up on ‘Doc Moreau’s Patented Hyper-Laxative’ are being released as we speak.

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If you see a singed interstellar singe (that’s French, Tish) taking an agonised noctilucent dump in your garden, Do Not Approach!

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The Magic Monkey Trees will begin growing almost immediately after the groaning, and should start cropping within days of the crapping.

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Each Magic Monkey Tree will look like an auracaria, but instead of cryptic crossword clues will continuously generate more and more monkeys.

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The monkeys though initially cute will rapidly multiply beyond our control and rip everyone limb from limb thus fulfilling our manifesto promise.

The Adventures of Doc Moreau & I, 13: Doc Moreau and the Ecto-Cheese

 

Modern Ecto-Cheese Production Methods (an artist’s impression)

 
Ecto-cheese has the potential to fuel our homes for millennia, especially when everyone is long dead and the houses completely demolished.
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Ecto-cheese is clean energy generated by milking ghosts and then asking very large beetles to somehow form the ecto-cheese curds. For money.

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As history progresses and more of humanity ‘passes’, ghost milk potential reaches a tipping point, but we really need really large beetles.

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If we can’t breed beetles the size of dormobiles by 1973, then humanity is doomed and all we can do is go round smashing wasps with hammers.

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Doc Moreau and I have discovered a radical new treatment that will increase Ringo’s body mass to that of a brontosaurus and thus save us all.

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Doc Moreau would like to reassure fans Ringo will still be able to play drums while fabricating ecto-cheese, we’ll just need very big drums.

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There is no truth to the rumour that ecto-cheese can be used in the manufacture of ‘phantom’ Cheese Robots conventional weapons cannot stop.

The Adventures of Doc Moreau & I, 12: The Klassified Ads

Inarticulate Arthropods! Restricted by clumsy shell ‘mittens’? Free your inner fingers with Doc Moreau’s Patented ‘Crab Gauntlets’!

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‘Now I can grip AND flex!’ says a leading spokescrab. Also suitable for lobsters and giant scorpions!

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Do you need a regular, dependable supply of stainless steel robins? Doc Moreau’s Stainless Steel Robins are guaranteed 100% cat-proof!

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Now available with scratch-resistant breastplates fashioned from the finest Robinium! Can flutter n singe!

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It’s statistically possible that up to one in 10,000 passers by may not be able to tell your Stainless Steel Robin from the real thing. Surely.

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Do you now or have you ever suffered from Ephemerrhoids – piles that appear n disappear too quickly for conventional treatment?

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If so, try Doc Moreau’s Patented Lightning Cream! WARNING: Doc Moreau’s Patented Lightning Cream may contain actual lightning.

The Adventures of Doc Moreau & I, 11: The Great Escapist

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Doc Moreau has escaped from his holding cell yet again. This time he appears to have genetically modified a stag beetle into a skeleton key.

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Doc Moreau’s most poetic crime was when he trained stick insects and stonechats to break all the bones of a journalist he was suing for libel.

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Doc Moreau’s most ridiculous offence was stitching nine giraffe necks together so that he could check on his wife in their ninth floor apartment.

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Necky, the nine-neck-long giraffe, requires a fire engine ladder at full stretch to support his neck. But he can also put out fires by spitting.

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Doc Moreau is believed to have defrauded the Chimerican government of billions of drachmas with his cat/dog, or ‘cog’, power source.

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The idea that a cat/dog amalgam which chased itself could be a source of near-perpetual motion is laughable but at the time was widely admired.

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Rumours are coming in Doc Moreau’s threat to create the Midgard Serpent using a ‘king konga’ of conger eels may have been no idle boast.