When I was a kid, my parents were partiers and took my brother and I to a lot of places we didn't rightly belong. One day they took us to an absolutely huge party at a ranch owned by a guy who sold cars to the Hollywood studios, so part of his property was an enormous junkyard full of classic cars. All the adults were drunk and high af, and my parents abandoned my brother and I on the front walkway of the ranch house, admonishing us "Stay out of trouble!" as they disappeared inside for a mysterious afternoon of hedonism.
About halfway up the path to the house, there was a brick landing, a bench, and a large black wrought iron cage, and inside the cage was a monkey. We were both still young enough to be excited by this novelty, so we ran right up squealing "Ooo, a monkey! Look at him, isn't he cute!"
This monkey apparently lived a fairly isolated life in his cage. He didn't seem like he got much attention at all, especially positive attention. The monkey was as excited to see us as we were to see him, and as a result, began jacking off furiously, I mean, really going at it like a pro, yanking that thing hard and dancing around the cage like a maniac. My brother and I stood stunned for a minute, then began to laugh hysterically. The owner of the house happened to come by lugging an ice chest and saw what was happening. "Stand back, kids" he ordered, and it was a good thing we did, because just then the monkey came in his hand and started slinging the cum at us. Swearing, the man picked up a piece of rebar from behind the bench and started hammering on the cage. "Stop that jacking off, ya filthy animal!" he shouted, as the monkey shrieked and bounced around the cage. He dropped the rebar back on the ground. "Why don't you kids go inside, we got sodas and ice cream, and there's gonna be hamburgers and hot dogs later. Oh, and we got ponies and a hay ride set up out back," he said kindly.
He was a nice dude at heart, for a degenerate, so we took his advice, got some snacks, some ice cream and soda, and more importantly, a whole bunch of peanuts in the shell. But instead of going for the hay ride and the ponies, we went straight back out to the monkey cage and settled in on the bench, which was out of range.
I noticed then that there was a circle of stains on the brick around the monkey cage. The bricks had been carefully scrubbed, but the ghost of white and brown splotches was permanently etched in a circle two and a half feet wide around the cage. We threw the peanuts to the monkey, and the monkey reciprocated by throwing shit at us. After that, we threw the peanuts AT him, rather than TO him, but he didn't mind, because negative attention was better than no attention.
The best part was when more guests arrived at the property, they would do the same as we had. They'd say "Ooo, look at the monkey!" and walk towards the cage, until they saw the monkey's munchkin-punching, and their cries would change from delight to shocked horror. My brother and I would laugh every time.
Finally, this very old, very decrepit woman with a walker came up, escorted by a younger woman who was probably her daughter. This old lady was 80 if she was a day, hard of hearing (so she screamed all the time) and most importantly, her vision was impaired. She studied the monkey soberly. "JEAN, WHAT'S WRONG WITH THAT MONKEY?" the old woman hollered. Jean grimaced in disgust; she could see that the monkey was yanking it. "I, uh, I think the monkey's sick, Ma. Let's go inside." The old lady didn't budge. "AYUH, HE'S SICK ALL RIGHT. HE'S SHEEVERING. SOMEBODY GET THAT DANG MONKEY A SWEATER." (It was 90f outside.) My brother and I were paralyzed with laughter as poor Jean dragged her mother away not a moment too soon; the monkey cum fell on vacant brick. My brother and I were laughing over that for WEEKS and even now, decades later, all I have to do is say "Remember the monkey?" and he'll start laughing and wheeze "Somebody get him a sweater!" The end.