Barnaby Buttons, a man known more for his eccentric wardrobe than his business acumen, saw a sign taped to a telephone pole: “$10 Monkeys?! Easy Money!” Barnaby adjusted his bow tie (a bright orange monstrosity covered in miniature rubber chickens) and practically skipped towards the address. He imagined a monkey-fueled empire, maybe a monkey butler service, or perhaps even a monkey-themed amusement park. “Think of the possibilities!” he chuckled to himself.
He arrived at a dilapidated shed with a crooked sign that read, “Monkey Emporium – Cheap & Cheerful!” A wiry old woman with a mischievous glint in her eye sat outside, whittling a piece of wood.
“Excuse me,” Barnaby said, adjusting his spectacles. “I saw the sign. I’m here for the $10 monkeys!”
The woman looked him up and down. “You sure you’re ready for a monkey, sonny? They’re a handful.”
“Ready as I’ll ever be!” Barnaby declared. “Lead the way!”
The woman grinned and pointed to a large cage overflowing with… stuffed monkeys. Dozens of them. Plush, fluffy, cotton-filled monkeys of every conceivable size and color.
“Here you go,” she said, waving her hand at the cage. “$10 each. Easy money, right?”
Barnaby stared, his jaw practically hitting the ground. “But… they’re not real monkeys!”
The woman shrugged. “Did the sign say ‘live monkeys’? Nope. Just $10 monkeys. And these are definitely monkeys. For ten bucks. You want one, or what? I got a shipment of flamingoes coming in next week – $5 each!”
