Hidden Evil

When you first make a friend they're pure. Y'know we all have that one friend who just seems to be the most innocent thing ever and all new friends are like that. They just seem to be like a cherub among satanists, so pure and innocent and out of place. Just waiting to be corrupted. More often than not you sift through the new friends and absolutely destroy the innocence in most of them, except for one. One will always resist your temptations. One will remain innocent and resist even the most cunning of your efforts. More often than not, the evil will be so uncomfortable with the incorruptible that they will distance themselves from them. I did the opposite of that and became what was basically my character foil's best friend. For the most part I would trust her with my life and she's even done some illustrations for this comic. But as a best friend you discover things. Incredible things. You just find out shit that's so deliciously interesting about your friends and for me it all began with weird music taste.

While listening to music with her using the same earbuds I discoverd that the person who constantly apologizes, the person who has a Shi-Tzu, the person who once chastised me for making a joke about small furry animals is quite partial to death metal (Avenged Sevenfold to be specific) and some crazy techno shit that scared even me. Further inquiry and examination of phone music led me to the finding that Miss Innocent was a fan of anime. And not the cutesy animes, nah. Some full blown scaryass weeaboo shit like Madoka Magica.

To those of you blissfully unaware Madoka Magica is basically Powerpuff Girls, except the Girls are controlled by a sadistic evil cat thing and get murdered by horrible monsters. sometimes through very graphically depicted beheading (and remember, she's the kind of person who apologizes for apologizing). Although I was initially horrified I just passed it off as weird taste. Gradually, though, I slowly uncovered more. I found that while she had an extremely long fuse, it was connected to a ball of hand grenades around a core of C4, tied together with a net of dynamite. I also discovered that while the relaxed don't often hate, when they do. It radiates. I once witnessed the class prankster (who deals exclusively with painful or annoying pranks that barely even qualify as pranks) flee in terror only from feeling her rage from a distance.

But the final nail in the coffin? That came during a dance performance. The school had kindly once sponsored a theatre trip and we ended up at Riverdance. In the middle of the dance she turned to me and said exactly this "Y'know the person in front of me? I could do whatever I want to them. I could just stick my tongue in their ear and if they made a noise they'd get in trouble." At that point I was enlightened and now I truly know:
Nobody is incorruptible. 

Miso is Terror

 Monkeys, Capuchin monkeys especially, are known to be generally lovely, if slightly impish creatures as portrayed in cutesy films like Night at the Museum and such. This is a lie. This is the biggest motherfucking lie in media.

Capuchin monkeys, especially the monkeys used in cinema are the meanest motherfuckers I have ever met, and I should know because my uncle had one.

 My uncle works in props. He supplies movies with the weird shit they require: gramophone? Got it. Printer from the 1980's? No prob. A live monkey? Sure, fuck it. As a result of this he has the coolest room in the universe. I have at different points in time found the following in his room at my grandparent's house: an Indiana Jones style satchel (with a scroll inside), a typewriter, a ninja star, a  half-eaten chicken and (of course) a living, breathing Capuchin monkey. My uncle, being a  fan of Japanese food, named this little simian denizen of destruction Miso, after the soup.

 He needed the monkey for some weird obscure Jordanian movie about some lady getting stoned, or
being stoned, I'm not sure. Regardless the monkey was not good with dealing with stress of acting or dealing with crowds and took to eating cigarettes to cope. My uncle  (who happened to be a smoker) would often leave a pack of Marlborough's on the desk in his room. Miso (who lived in the room) would sneak up to the table...

open the pack and eat a few cigarettes...

and then get crazy high on the nicotine.

What is drugs

This would ordinarily be alright, except that the monkey was a complete asshole. Upon getting really high Miso would go totally batshit insane. He would leap around the room shitting on everything, screaming and biting people. My grandma fucking hated the animal.

 The real issue came about 2 months after the monkey's début at granny's house. He started to be able to open the door. Naturally, being an asshole who just happened to be either high or experiencing nicotine withdrawal, Miso often broke out of the room and would wreak havoc until being recaptured and detained in my uncle's room. One Wednesday everyone was out for once. The room had been inadvertently been left unlocked and Miso, using the much underestimated power of opposable thumbs, opened the door and crept out of the house like a teenager on a beer run.

 Little known fact about my grandmother's house: located right next to a Preschool/Daycare centre. Well known fact about monkeys: attracted to bright colours, especially when high. The hairy little bastard waddled across the street, to the brightly coloured Preschool/Daycare and leaped into the play-area where the children were currently having their play time in the bright rainbow coloured jungle gym. This monkey was, let me reiterate, uncomfortable with crowds and loud noises (2 things small children excel at) and also, to reiterate once more, high as fuck on nicotine and extremely aggressive. It did not end well for a couple of 2 year olds and some teachers. The police confiscated the little twat and we haven't seen him since.