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I got in my car slowly, looking at the smoldering pile of rubble where my "gibbon" had recently deceased, and thought about what the police might do to me were I to be blamed for this incident. I pondered the idea of filing a suit against the makers of Glass Monkey, but I wasn't sure I was up to it all after my recent episode with my pet, who up until today, had been so peaceful and cute.
The steering wheel broke off in my hands (Well isn't that just spectacular... you almost die in a fucking mall and then you're too much driver for your damnable car.). I didn't have a whole lot else to do at this point, so I got back out and walked back to the mess where I'd left my pet. Looking down, I noticed that, under all that disgusting black ooze, my gibbon's original shape was protruding. I leaned down, and, ripping a piece of my jacket off, started to brush away the acidic sludge. Sure enough, my old pet, seemingly restored to his normal self, was under there. He looked up at me with those big black eyes, and made a little sound...
My gibbon was back! "Steve! I yelled, and clutched him to my chest." Steve squealed in wretched monkey pain. "Oops, sorry, I guess I don't know my own strength." I chuckled and put Steve on my back. "Let's go get you a treat." I said.
We passed through a couple places in the mall, people staring at the guy in ripped up jeans and his gibbon, and we made it to the candy store which, ironically, was just across from the pet store. Rodents were trailing around confusedly in the main area of the mall. I waved at the guy from the adult novelty store through the hole in the wall. He shuddered and turned away from me. Ah well... some people just can't handle the pressure. Steve's a big candy fan, I probably shouldn't feed it to him, but I guess he's already had worse today, so I bought him a pack of Reese's Peanut Butter Cups. I opened the pack and handed him the first one. He took the black wrapping off the bottom and stuffed it in the nearest gummy worm bin. Then alternated between taking little bites out of it, and smearing melted chocolate everywhere. The lady behind the counter raised an eyebrow at me. She looked like she was about to step into motion when I turned around. Then she froze, recognizing me as the guy who'd just leapt, rocketlike, out of the building a little while ago. I payed her an extra 20 for the candy. I know Steve's messy, but I don't like to pressure him into having proper table manners. Especially when he's just recently fought me while flying some 20 stories through the air.
I was just about to get Steve and go when I noticed that this candy shop had little bags of Glass Monkey. I asked her if she knew where the stuff came from. She replied, "Hell if I know, we just sell the stuff." "No no... They sold this stuff in the pet shop too. What the hell is it?" "I dunno, honestly, now would you take your chimp and leave?" "Look, it's not a-" But before I could get the word 'gibbon' out of my mouth, I noticed a discarded bag of the stuff laying on the floor near the exit of the mall. I asked the lady if I could buy the remainder of the Glass Monkey. It cost a bit, but I wolfed half a bag of it down and stowed the other three in my jacket before I made my next move. I rushed out of the store as Steve threw the other peanut butter cup against the wall, sending little bits of delicious chocolate all over the place.