AniMalcolm

by David Baddiel

  “No, I was just letting off a bit of steam. You know, like you do.”

  “Oh. What’s your name?”

  “Tarzan,” said Tarzan.

  Malcolm jumped up and down, chattered his teeth and made screeching noises.

  “You see, it feels great, doesn’t it?” said Tarzan.

  “No, I was laughing at your name,” said Malcolm.

  “Oh,” said Tarzan, looking a bit cross.

  “Sorry, not because it’s a silly name. Just because in the human world, Tarzan is the name of a man who’s brought up by monkeys.”

  “We’re not monkeys,” said Tarzan. “Chimps are apes.”

  “Oh,” said Malcolm.

  “How come you don’t know that? And how come you know that weird thing about my name?”

  “Because I’m a human,” said Malcolm. “I’m a boy.”

  Tarzan jumped up and down, chattered his teeth, and made screeching noises.

  “That was you laughing that time, wasn’t it?” said Malcolm, after he’d finished.

  “Yep,” said Tarzan.

  After this, another chimp came over, turned round, bent over, and said, “Here’s my bum,” which Tarzan seemed to take quite badly, and they ended up having a big roly-poly fight. Malcolm decided that while he was waiting for his family to show up, he might as well see what it was like being a chimp.

  So he scurried, half bent over, up a wooden ladder on to a high platform standing in the right-hand corner of the cage. He held up one of his long arms, got hold of one vine hanging from the ceiling, and swung halfway across the cage; then leapt from there to another one, and swung the rest of the way across.

  He jumped from that one on to another high platform in the left-hand corner, and climbed halfway down to an enormous tyre swing. He sat in the tyre swing, and let Tarzan, whose fight had stopped almost as suddenly as it had begun,41 push him.

  He swung high, sticking his legs out (noticing that his feet too, though hairy, were very human). After about twenty swings, he let himself fall off, on to a rope net below. The rope net turned out to be quite tightly strung, and landing on it created a big bounce, like a trampoline, throwing Malcolm halfway back across the enclosure.

  Being a chimp, thought Malcolm, while he was in the air, is brilliant.

  It’s like being in the best playground ever, except that you’re more able than usual to swing and climb and jump. I love it, he thought. Well, actually, he thought I love—

  He never got as far as the it, because that was when he landed right on the back of the head of the biggest chimp in the cage.

  “Owwwww!” said the biggest chimp in the cage.

  “Sorry!” said Malcolm, rolling away.

  “Sorry won’t stop my head hurting!” the big chimp shouted, in a deep booming voice.

  “Sorry!” said Malcolm again.

  “I said—”

  “Yes, but I don’t know what else to say!”

  “Also you have disturbed Lord King Louie’s precious pile of poop!” said another smaller chimp to the side of the scarily big one.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “Lord King Louie’s precious pile of poop!!” said a second chimp.

  “Oh my goodness! The Holy Plop-Plop!” said a third one.

  Malcolm looked down: by his feet, there was a small pyramid of what looked like chimp poo, which did indeed look a little disturbed. It looked a little like, in fact, one of the real pyramids.42

  When he looked up, the three chimps all jumped up and down, chattering their teeth and screeching. But they clearly weren’t laughing. They were cross with Malcolm; and approaching Malcolm. Crossly.

  Uh-oh, he thought.

  “See-No! Speak-No! Hear-No! It’s fine!” said Louie. “I’m fine.”

  The three chimps stopped jumping, chattering and screeching immediately. Instead, they lowered their heads, bowed towards Louie, and backed off, saying:

  “Thank heavens for that, Your Eminence …”

  “Truly thankful, Your Chimpi-nence …”

  “Could not be more relieved, Your Hairy-ness …”

  “Now …” said Louie, turning to Malcolm, his voice more booming and low than ever, “who are you? And why have you disturbed my mid-morning sleep?”

  “Well, Louie …” said Malcolm.

  “Lord King Louie!” interjected See-No.

  “Or Your Chimpi-nence!” said Speak-No.

  “And if you continue to speak to the Lord King, it’s ch’amp as in Champion Chimp, not Ch’ump as in –” at this point Hear-No looked a bit uncertain – “chump.”

  “Er … right. Well, Lord King Louie, sir …”

  “You don’t have to say sir,” said Louie, magnanimously.43

  “Right. Well. Thing is, I’m a …” Suddenly, Malcolm felt very tired of having to explain about how he was really a boy again. Also, for some reason he couldn’t quite explain, he was not particularly keen on Louie. So instead he said …

  “Actually, why do I have to call you Lord King Louie? And why is everyone bowing and scraping to you?”

  Louie frowned – chimps can really do this – and very large lines appeared across his forehead. His nostrils flared, becoming even wider holes than they already were. Speak-No, Hear-No and See-No looked incredibly shocked – in fact Speak-No put both his hands over his mouth, Hear-No put his over his ears, and See-No put his over his eyes.

  “Because I …” said Louie, even more loudly and boomingly, “… am the Dominant Male in this community!”

  “The Dominant Male!” echoed Speak-No, Hear-No and See-No together (still holding their hands over their mouth, ears and eyes – so it was quite hard to hear Speak-No, and quite surprising that Hear-No heard it in the first place).

  Then they actually sang it, like an amen in church:

  “The dooh-minn-annt …

  Ma-yalll!”

  “Would you like to dispute my dominance, Malcolm?” said Louie, rising up to his full height. “Would you like to challenge it?”

  Louie then did something, which, if Malcolm hadn’t been so frightened, he might have found funny, as it was so … monkey-ish.

  He – Louie44 – raised both his long, furry arms above his head, and brought his fists down on his chest, beating it repeatedly, and screaming while he did it, like a … well, like a big monkey. Like King Kong.

  Suddenly, all the chimps in the enclosure were surrounding Louie and Malcolm, going:

  “Fight! fight! fight! fight!”45

  Louie was still beating his chest. Malcolm – although he didn’t really want to fight – thought: oh well, when in Rome. Or rather: when in the Monkey Drome.

  So he raised himself up to his full height, and started beating his chest and screaming, too.

  It kind of felt good. It kind of felt right. It kind of made Malcolm feel he was up for the fight. Hey, he thought, maybe if I win this fight, I’ll be the Dominant Male, and all the others will have to call me, Your Chimpiness! That’ll be great.

  They approached each other, fists-a-beating, with all the other chimps still going: “Fight! Fight! Fight!”

  Louie raised one of his fists above his head. Malcolm – suddenly realising that taking on the much bigger Louie may have been a mistake – cowered. But then, just before Louie brought that fist down on Malcolm, Hear-No cried out: “Your Smelliness!”

  “What is it!?” said Louie.

  “A human boy! Approaching the cage!”

  Louie and all the other chimps stopped what they were doing immediately, turning to look. Louie nodded, and took a deep breath.

  “We will deal with this…” he said, looking heavily at Malcolm, “… later. Meanwhile: prepare yourselves … for the ritual!!!”

  The chimps all scurried away, as if taking positions.

  Malcolm, confused, turned to look at the bars of the cage.

  There, standing on the other side of them, smiling, pointing and clapping, was his little brother, Bert.

  “I love the
zoo so much!” said Jackie, as they approached the Monkey House.

  “Yes!” said Stewart. “So do I!”

  “Yeah. The zoo is, like, ZOO,” said Libby.

  “What does that one mean?” said Grandpa.

  “Zillion OMGs. Obvs …”

  Grandpa nodded. “I sometimes wonder if you are just making these up on the spot.”

  “Look at Bert!” said Jackie. “He’s run up ahead!”

  “He’s loving the chimps!” said Stewart.

  “Can I eat them?” shouted Bert. “Can I eat them?”

  “Should we let him go so close to the bars?” said Jackie. “You know we haven’t let any of the children do that since …” she faltered a little, lowering her voice: “… the Monkey … Moment.”

  “Oh, I think it’ll be fine. Just keep an eye out,” said Stewart. “Talking of Malcolm,” he continued, taking Jackie’s hand as they walked, “I feel sure from the phone calls that he’s having such a good time on the farm that when he comes back we can bring him here again! I think he’ll be over the Monkey Moment, and find his love for animals once more!”

  “Ah …” said Jackie, sadly. “I hope you’re right.” By this point, they were standing in front of the Chimp Enclosure. Jackie turned towards it and said: “I just wish he was here now.”

  Malcolm looked at Bert, and behind him, his mum, dad, grandpa and sister. He ran over to the bars of the cage.

  “Mum! Dad! Bert! Grandpa! Libby!” he shouted, pointing to himself. “It’s me! Malcolm!”

  “Oh look, Bert! Look at that one!” said Grandpa. “He’s jumping up and down and pointing at himself! What do you think he’s saying with all that screaming?”

  “I think he’s saying … eat me! You can eat me, if you want!”

  “No, I don’t think so, Bert …”

  “Is he saying this?” said Bert. He’d managed to pick Stewart’s pocket. In his hand, he held up Stewart’s phone, with the AnimalSFX app onscreen. He pressed the chimp icon. It made a chattering noise.

  The family all laughed.

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake!” shouted Malcolm. “No. That icon is not even speaking proper monkey. Bert! Libby! It’s me, Malcolm!”

  “Wow,” said Libby, sounding ever-so-slightly un-bored for a moment, “that monkey is, like, so GOI!”

  “GOI?” said Grandpa.

  “Going on Instagram!” said Libby, turning round to face away from the cage – pouting, brushing her hair and producing her phone at the same time in one expert move.

  “No!” said Malcolm. “You don’t understand!”

  Click! went Libby’s phone. She turned round again, clicking on it.

  “Selfie … with monkey … LOLT3000… smiley face smiley face laughing face crying face smiley laughing crying monkey face.”

  “I don’t want to be on Instagram!!” shouted Malcolm. “And: I’m not a monkey!”

  “That’s right!” shouted Tarzan, from somewhere behind him. “Chimps aren’t monkeys! You tell ’em.”

  “Yes! That’s right! But I didn’t mean that! I meant … Mum! Dad! I’m Malcolm!”

  “Ha-ha! What a funny monkey!” said his mum and dad.

  “Chimp!” corrected Malcolm. “And … boy!”

  “Look at his silly jumping up and down and pointing at himself! So funny!”

  Malcolm looked at them. He stopped jumping up and down and pointing at himself. He took a deep breath, and let out a deep sigh. He felt very sad: he had been so sure that when he found his family they would be able, somehow, to see it was him – that whatever animal he happened to be at the time, they would see through the outer skin, and realise: “Oh my God: that’s Malcolm.” Instead, they were laughing and pointing and saying what a funny monkey he was.

  He turned round, away from his family.

  I suppose, he thought, I should just rejoin the other chimps. And get used to being one of them for the rest of my life.

  When he turned round, however, he didn’t quite have time to just indulge himself in self-pity about this. Because he noticed something about all the chimps. Which was that they had all raised their arms. And they were all holding something.

  A trickle formed in Malcolm’s memory. A trickle which became a flood when he looked over at Lord King Louie, and remembered why he might not have felt very happy to have made his acquaintance.

  Because Lord King Louie was scooping his hand into the pile of Holy Plop-Plop at his feet.

  And then raising that hand above his head.

  “Remember,” shouted Hear-No to all the other chimps, “the first throw always goes to the Lord King Louie!!”

  There were some grumbling noises at this point.

  “Stop grumbling!” shouted See-No. “That’s how it always goes!”

  In that second, it all came back to Malcolm: all the terror and humiliation of the Monkey Moment.

  And what made it worse was, as he looked at the angle of Louie’s arm, he realised that this time, the chimp was not aiming at him, but at Bert.

  “Bert!” shouted Malcolm. “Run! Take cover!”

  “Oh good,” said Stewart. “That one’s perked up again. I thought he’d gone a bit quiet!”

  “Can I eat him?” said Bert, opening his mouth.

  Opening: his mouth.

  Oh dear.

  “Right!” said Louie. “Here! We! Go!”

  A round ball of Dominant Male poo left his hand, travelling very quickly in the direction of Bert. Realising it was too late to do anything else – and that Bert and the rest of his family were, frankly, too stupid (despite their previous experience) to understand what was happening – Malcolm came to a swift and unhappy conclusion.

  Then he jumped in front of Bert, making himself a human shield.

  Sorry, a monkey shield.

  Sorry, an ape shield.

  Splat! went the ball of poo. All over Malcolm’s face.

  A huge gasp went up from the chimps.

  “What! Are! You! Doing?” shouted Louie, furiously.

  “Protecting my little brother!” shouted Malcolm back, although he didn’t shout it that loud, as, just at the minute, he didn’t want to open his mouth too wide.

  “What is he talking about?” said Louie.

  “We’ve no idea, Your PG-Tips-ness,” said Speak-No.

  “Never mind. On with the ritual!” shouted Louie, picking up more poo from the pile. And throwing it at Bert. Except Malcolm was still standing in front of him.

  Splat again!

  “I’m warning you, Malcolm …” shouted Louie.

  “No!” shouted Malcolm.

  “Have you seen what all the other chimps are holding?”

  “I haven’t seen, no,” said Malcolm. “As I’m shutting my eyes very tightly. But I can guess!”

  “You have one last chance. Step aside!”

  As if in answer, Malcolm put his hands behind him and laced his long arms between the bars, to make it clear he wasn’t going anywhere.

  “Fine!”

  Louie nodded to Hear-No, Speak-No and See-No. Who all turned to the massed ranks of the chimps, and screamed, in unison: “Launch … poos!!”

  Every chimp in there raised their arms and starting chucking stinky missiles at Bert. The poos flew in not-very-beautiful arcs towards where he was standing.

  Malcolm heard his mum say: “Oh my goodness!

  Not again! Bert! Come away!”

  “Yes! Bert!” said his father. “Step away from the cage!”

  “GOOTW, Bert!” said Libby, sounding a little un-bored at this moment. “Like: GOOTW!”46

  But Bert didn’t. Because none of the poo had actually hit him yet, he just found it really funny. Malcolm could hear him laughing. And, on the edges of his vision, he could also see him, ducking round to try to get a better view of the funny monkeys trying – as far as Bert was concerned – to throw poo at the one monkey standing in front of him.

  So that meant that Malcolm became: a goalie.47

  He had to dive
in front of/block with his body/get his head in the way of about thirty balls of poo.

  Bert moves to the right – Malcolm dives to the right: splat on his arm!

  Bert moves to the left – Malcolm dives to the left: splat on his shoulder!

  Bert tries to jump higher than Malcolm (who as a chimp is not taller than him) to see better – Malcolm leaps up and catches another one – splat! – full in the face.

  Bert crouches down to see through Malcolm’s legs – Malcolm kneels down and takes one for the team – well, for Bert, anyway – right in his softest chimp bits.

  Splat.

  By the end of it, Malcolm was completely covered. It was much, much worse than the original Monkey Moment, when at least he’d had the bars of the cage in the way.

  But still: Bert was poo-free. And now, surely, his family would realise who this chimp really was, who had saved their youngest son from having his own Monkey Moment.

  Malcolm turned round to face them, opening his eyes and his arms wide. He knew he was encrusted in smelliness from head to foot, and that he therefore might not present the loveliest image to his family, but he was convinced that his enormous act of self-sacrifice would mean that they would see through the poo (and the chimp body) and recognise him.

  What he saw, instead, were the backs of his family, as they walked away.

  “Goodness me,” Stewart was saying. “That was a bit weird.”

  “Yeah,” Libby replied, “GROSS.”

  “Does that mean Get Rid Of Smelly—?” said Grandpa.

  “No,” interrupted Libby, “it just means gross. Which that was.”

  “So do the chimps do that to every little boy that comes right up to the cage?” Jackie said.

  “Maybe,” replied Stewart. “Thank goodness for the blocking chimp, though …”

  “Yes. I wonder why he was doing that?”

  “Oh, just for a bit of chimpy fun, I imagine. They probably love getting covered in poo.”

  “Can I eat him?”

  “Certainly not at the moment, Bert, no.”

  Malcolm watched them go. He felt very, very sad, and would have started crying, even, had he not been hit on the back of the head at that point by one last poo missile, from one last chimp – which, having had quite a lot of time to harden, knocked him out.