Okay, okay, let’s calm down here. The men are straightening up the ship and that compass will show up and things will be back on course in no time at all. No need to panic, no, certainly not. No man was ever outsmarted by a goddamn monkey, you remind yourself. It’s a fucking monkey, for crying out loud. How much trouble can one damn monkey cause? It’s not like they sit around planning trouble. Stupid thing’s probably hiding somewhere right now, scared half to death, playing with himself. Sure would have been easier if he’d left the compass alone, though. You can’t be captain and missing your compass at the same time. It just doesn’t work.
Besides, you think, you don’t have time for this crap. You’re hungry. Running a tight ship makes a man hungry, leaving little time for chasing around a monkey with a compass. You step around the gold and lean out the door, calling out for the First Mate. Man you’re hungry.
“First Mate,” you say, “I’m off to the galley for a bit of lunch.”
“Aye aye, sir,” he says.
“You’ll let me know right away if the compass turns up?”
“Yes, Captain.”
“And the monkey?”
“I believe the monkey has been spotted in the galley, sir.”
“WHAT! I thought I made it clear that I was to be told the minute the monkey was spotted.”
“I believe it’s a new development, sir.”
“Well, what’s he up to?”
“Who, sir?”
“The monkey, dammit! Do I need to explain everything?”
“No, sir.”
“I should hope not.”
“Yes, sir.”
You should have guessed right off that the monkey would hide out in the galley. Come to think of it, the cook’s shoulder seemed to maybe be his favorite perch, which might explain the chowder. You’d have to have a talk with the cook about that.
“Well, what is it?” you say.
“What is what, sir?”
“The monkey, for God’s sake! What is the monkey up to?”
“The Second Mate reports that he appears to be baking a loaf of focaccia bread, or something. The cook was too drunk to give a second opinion.”
“Good Lord, have you gone crazy? Monkeys don’t bake! You’ve lost your mind man! Stand aside!”
“Yes sir!”
Baking focaccia, you say to yourself. The whole ship’s gone mad, and it’s all on account of the gold, which you suddenly notice, appears have been cleaned up. Thank God! For once something is going right.