"If you are starving to death, you will eat anything."
- Dr. Martin J. Care
During my most recent retreat to the beautiful forests of the Democratic Republic of the Congo, I found myself.
I was hiking alone, naked, at midnight. It had been a long few days of fasting from food and water and my body was telling me it needed sustenance. The warm air crawled across my body as I went deep into the bushes near the hut I was staying at. In the veil of the dim moonlight, I saw two monkeys fighting. It was a rampage like something I had never seen before. Two beautiful creatures engaging in the most visceral, primal, and ageless act of combat. It seemed like they were fighting over a piece of tree fruit - a prized treat in the area I was staying. The two beasts were yelping and crying, swinging and scratching - two gladiators in the colosseum of the sub-saharan outback. It looked as if the taller, albeit more slender, monkey was going to win the battle. He had his opponent trapped between his leg and a rock on the ground. It looked as if he was looking for something - anything - to finish the other monkey off - a coup de grâce. It was at that exact moment, I raised my side arm that I always carry with me when exploring - especially at night - and shot both monkeys in the head. And after those two pops, there was an eerie silence that took over the night sky. No more monkeys screaming and biting - just silence. I walked over to the two bodies. The thick smell of iron and sweat and hair and spit was held stagnant in the air. Without so much as a second thought, I bent down and shot a bullet hole through the temporal portion of each of their skulls. I lifted the first head, the monkey who was about to be defeated in combat, put the bullet hole to my lips and drank the essence held within. I could feel the brain and bone fragments on my lips - this was exactly what I needed. After a few more sips, I started to feel something strange pulling inside me - it was as if the dead monkey's, expelled testosterone was now flowing through my body. I looked at the other monkey - the almost victor. I drank from it's head hole and felt something else. I felt power. Pure, primal power. It was as if the gossamer in front of my face was lifted. I was watching the world through the eyes of a monkey. I also noticed I was extremely, sexually excited. I decided to have a few more drinks from each of the monkey's heads and then leave them for the other creatures of the night. I had my fill. I had my sustenance. When I got back to my hut, I sat down on my bed - still sexually excited. For research purposes, I slapped at my erection. First in a somewhat playful way, but then it progressively got more and more violent. I was punching my penis and scratching it - poking at it and squeezing it. The images of the two monkeys fighting, not more than 20 minutes ago, flashed across my eyes and I realized something. I was not feeling any pain. Although it looked bruised and swollen - my penis felt fine. Could it have been the monkey blood that prevented the pain? I will let you be the judge. But let me tell you this - upon my return to the United States, I adopted a bunch of monkeys from zoos and private collectors so I can continue gaining their power.