Final Fantasy Ultima » Omake and Extras » 12 Ways of Killing a Monkey Final Fantasy Ultima - -

Before we go any further, let us first point out how much we actually love monkeys and that, though this article/story/thing is intended for good humour, personal offence may be caused by some of the ‘satanic’ content hence forth. The usage of monkeys in this rather disturbing tale is simply random; in the process of selecting and summoning up a random creature for the subject of this story, the monkey was chosen. We love the monkey. Anyone who doesn’t love the monkey has a rare heart condition called death.

» Now for something totally Disturbing...

Arthur was once a great and influential knight and warrior in the lands you humans call ‘England’. He was, in fact, king at one point. He ruled over many sacred lands and rolling fields, full of beautiful countryside and wildlife. However, the day came when he had to go to war with his rivalling kingdom. This kingdom was called the Order of the Twelve Monkeys (now in a film, but rather a crude interpretation) and this order was quite the loveliest of places… They feasted every day and danced day and night to amazingly relaxing music. However, Arthur, being an old misery, took it into his hands to disband this order and save the land for, each night when it was quiet and calm, the Monkeys would silently waddle along and steal a new child each night, and the rumours said they turned them into monkeys. “Yeah right. Manchester United will win!” said the village elder at this news, but nobody listened to his advice, for he had also said the world was round. What a silly idea…

But anyway… The story continues… Arthur had just began his war with the monkeys and the fighting had begun when the prophet appeared… He travelled in a futuristic machine with wheels and an “engine” that made strange humming sounds… He also had a boom stick, a weapon that was capable of cutting a sword in two. Arthur was, of course, disturbed but was none the less determined to win his war. The prophet approached him one day, wishing to make conversation with such a wise and noble king.

“Well Arthur,” said the prophet in a diminishing voice. “Your time has come…”
“Whatever do you mean, oh prophet?” demanded Arthur, a pathetic appeal in his voice.
“This war is futile. The monkeys won’t die unless you bestow upon them the six methods of killing!”
“Whatever are they, oh prophet?”
“Well,” said the prophet, for he didn’t know… “I know that one of them is shooting them with a boom stick. Yes indeedy. Do that and they will fall and… hello, what’s this?” He had been cut short by the presence of a tall and noble figure fully clad in black with a checker white and black hairstyle… or was it his hat?
“Allo allo allo,” it said in a soft, yet vivid voice. “What have we here?”
“The hell are you?” asked the prophet.
“That tone of yours,” said the figure. “Has got to go!”
“Shutupa your face,” said the prophet with a rude hand gesture.
“Clink” went the sound of the figure’s instruments.
“I’m arresting you in the name of the law,” it said. “You foul mouthed dirt bag.”
Arthur, looking rather out of place in this sudden twentieth century scene, looked like a right Pratt. Anyway, he called out to the prophet as he was driven away by the police officer.
“Whatever do I do now, oh prophet?”
“Screw yourself!” he called back grumpily. “Nothing in the contract about being arrested!”

As you have probably pictured in your mind (because this story leaves lots for the imagination) the prophet has been arrested by the police officer who was the figure in black with the white and checker hat. Of course, he arrested the prophet for his “tone”. Now this leaves Arthur in a tricky position. However can he adventure without the prophet to tell him what to do? But the prophet left his “boom stick” behind (which is, in case you hadn’t already gathered, a gun). Arthur picked it up, not really knowing of its power, and pocketed it. We all know, of course, that this was a terrible mistake. The crows were soon watching him, and the wrinkle was all that happy. But Arthur continued none the less, clapping his eyes together in his head. Silly Pratt.

He arrived at the Order of the Twelve Monkey’s home… It was a mighty castle filled with hundreds of species of frozen goods and freshly baked breads. Tesco they called their home, but no one would have any of it. Tesco is quite the supermarket. Freshly made products and lovely muffins which sell cheaply and on…

*Gun click*

I hate Tesco. They smell, and they’ll go to hell, and I don’t say this because a gun’s pointed to me head (we could only afford to make this in Sainsburys). Now back to the story, after this brief interlude.

Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob

The monkey’s weren’t aware of Arthur’s presence and… Well, why should they? This story’s boring you, right? Post all complaints to RobtheBob, he smells. He’ll deal with them, ok? Now, anyway, Arthur was venturing into the castle. What a BAD, SMELLY castle it was, I must add… But then he saw it… The single most important book in the world… The Lord of the Rings, it was called… Arthur was now quite sure what he was on the Earth to do… He picked his nose. Nice. Then he picked up the Lord of the Rings and read from it’s sacred volumes… But three monkeys approached, guns trained on him! He spoke from the book…
“Fool of a took!” he said aloud. “Throw yourself in next time and rid us of your stupidity!”
The monkeys fell dead in front of him, with a smile on their face as they lay dead. He had discovered method number two: bore with overlong books.

Arthur stepped over the now peaceful looking monkeys, robbing them of their money, their guns, their clothes, and then having a good laugh and a hoot on their behalf. After five minutes, the thrill had gone, so he shrugged and walked on past the naked monkeys. The corridors flowed in front of him like drool from his mouth. The light was an eery darkness with only the occasional torch for comfort. It wasn’t nice, but he made do. He walked onwards, four boomsticks in his hands. How he could fire them all at once we’ll never know, but who cares anyway. Now for an advert break… (they keep this site open)

Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob
Hob… a brighter path to the future!

When he got to the end of the corridor another two dread monkeys appeared, armed with relish and tomatoes. They had leers and menacing glances on their faces, the like that not any man could stand for long. Arthur looked at them, coughing at their ugliness. They dropped dead. Another appeared, and he coughed again. It dropped dead. Alas, here did Sir Arthur of the Round Table find the third method of killing a monkey in one of his fictional tales.

Arthur continued his mission, enjoying the monkey’s relish and tomatoes. He stood up, wiping the tomato juice off his clothes, sighing pleasantly. Then it happened… The alarm suddenly rang sullenly through the castle, which is quite a nice castle. Flashing red Ramirez alarms rung deafingly through the castle. He could hear doors in the distance opening thunderously, as well as slamming shut silently. Then there were about fifty monkies surrounding him, threatening him with their weapons… If I were to describe them, this book would never end, and I would also have to think about what I’m writing, which isn’t going to happen. Anyway, so the monkies pounced on him, but then…

Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob Hob

There was a sudden intermission and they all dropped dead, triumphant looks on their face. Arthur bowed and thanked the lord as he found out that intermissions are the fourth way of killing a monkey.

Outside the castle the wind was howling and the wild animals were pushing shopping trolleys around all the minute. Arthur still continued his quest, close to finding the ultimate defeat to the Order of the Twelve Monkey’s. His quest brought him to the centre of the castle, upon which a gold and diamond throne was carved out of the very gold and diamond throne that was carved upon the gold and diamond throne… Which was car… ve… z... z… zzzzzzz. Suddenly, a terrible, blood thirsty squeak in the air… He turned around, a pleasant little hamster sitting happily on the floor. He looked at it, a smile on his face, when suddenly… No, this is not a Monty Python rip. Just keep reading, it’ll be different. The hamster looked nice and pleasant, when suddenly a fish came into the scene from backstage! What happened, I hear you ask? The fish jumped up and down, tap dancing and humming to itself. Just as it had finished, it began flopping offstage, and ate the hamster! Arthur was, of course, quite disturbed by this… But he didn’t let it bug him all the same. He continued valiantly on with his quest. He walked to the centre of the room and was overtaken with a blinding, radiant light as white as pearls. It covered around him, the room went white and he shielded his eyes. Then he looked around him. He was in a very different place. He was in some sort of fururistic bridge of an aircraft… The carvings were unique and unreal. Standing around the room were at least a dozen monkies, royally dressed in unique robes and important clothing. What happened next? They spoke to him. Their voices weren’t heavily angered or even soft. They were pleasant.

“Hello, Arthur”, one of them said gently. “How are you?”
Arthur, lost for words, didn’t reply. He merely made a strange squealing sound.
“Let me explain,” came a voice from the shadows. Emerged the prophet. He turned into a monkey in front of him. Arthur made a “oooh” noise and fainted, but got up again. He’s a man, not a man. He thought fast. He had to kill them. Then his quest would be over.
“What’s all this about?” asked angry Arthur.
The monkeys in the room, all of them, dropped dead. He knew the fifth method of killing the monkey’s, awful assonance and alliteration using amazingly assisting adjectives. But now he knew he’d failed his… With them all defeated, he knew that he would never find the sixth method… But, alas, a monkey crawled out of one of the rooms next to him… Now he knew what he had to do. For the sake of Nestle snacks and mankind, he had to do it… So he jumped at the control switch, snapping on a button… A panel opened next to him, revealing stars… Stars upon stars, with the Earth down below the spaceship.
“So this is space,” he told himself with an awed smile on his face. There it is, another example of terrible English techniques. Fluff pillow!

He stared out in wonder, but hit the other switch.
“For Nestle…” he said as he pressed in the button. It was halfway in, about to be de-pressed, and he stopped himself.
“oh, for Mankind too, yeh…” with a nervous grin and glance around the room. He pressed the button in and can you guess what happened next? The hamster appeared, and jumped on him. It looked at him, and boom. The ship exploded, sending all the monkeys into hell and sending Arthur into the annals of history… But other knights followed… Lancelot, Galahad, Rory Bremner. He was never alone throughout history, and now all four… three of them are probably lying side by side in some paradise somewhere, secretly alive.

» The Alternative Ending

Arthur ate a pie, and smiled. So the world was blessed with pie. Arthur then turned into a monkey and ended the story rather dully.

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