The jungle slowly returned to its usual rhythm after the human hunting parties ceased their visits. Predators like lions, cheetahs, leopards, and hyenas continued their relentless pursuit of prey, while animals such as monkeys, giraffes, wildebeest, and antelopes still ran for their lives. Meanwhile, fame had gone to Funky Monkey’s head. Not fortune, though; the animals had yet to develop the human vice of avarice—the love of money and gold. Their “currency” was provided entirely by the jungle. Foraging for food, whether you were a carnivore or a herbivore, was abundant in the forest and within the protective canopy of trees, offering shelter from storms and enemies alike. The jungle was a self-sufficient provider.

What troubled our beloved friend? It was the limited knowledge he’d acquired in captivity from observing his human captors. This small amount of knowledge had now become a dangerous thing. He was the celebrated super-spy, and his audience—mostly younger monkeys—would sit captivated, listening to him recount his “Tale of Deliverance” repeatedly. His audience grew daily, with some drawn by admiration and others by curiosity. Soon, many other animals joined this daily routine of monkey rhetoric.

One clear, humid day, under a sky of brilliant blue, a sizable group of listeners and onlookers had gathered. Our dear friend, Funky Monkey, began to discuss the human voting system for leadership, specifically democracy. “Democracy,” he explained, “is a way of allowing ordinary people the opportunity to rule, instead of the status quo of kings, or in our case, lions, as our masters. Let us collectively call a special meeting of all jungle inhabitants to discuss this and possibly cast votes for new leadership.”

Suddenly, Scarface, a lion from another pride, slipped into the meeting unannounced and unnoticed. He stood up and, with a loud roar, agreed to the idea. Scarface harboured a deep hatred for King Leo III. This intense animosity stemmed from an earlier encounter with the Lion King. In a treacherous act of treason, Scarface and three other lions from his pride had ambushed King Leo, planning to kill him and seize the throne. However, they had underestimated King Leo’s speed and strength. Not only did he escape their attack, but he also killed one of their number and, with a swift swing of his front left paw, inflicted deep furrows on Scarface’s face, marking him for life and giving him his name. The proposed special meeting was set for the next full moon, which some began to call the “Meeting of the Next Fool Moon.”

Word spread, and the meeting was advertised far and wide, reaching all four corners of the jungle. The “Cast in Stone Date” arrived far too quickly, yet everyone interested made their way to the designated spot. It wasn’t the usual meeting place, as some felt that the lions would have a home-ground advantage there. This was not a home-and-away game, but a fair and neutral spot for any arguments, disagreements, and debatable issues that might arise. Unlike Noah, who waited for animals to arrive in pairs, here they arrived as individuals, in small groups, and even in large contingents. Someone remarked, “It’s great that the elephant herd didn’t come en masse, or else there would have been insufficient seating space!”

There was much banter and jostling for position, but then the din subsided to an almost palpable silence. King Leo and his entourage had entered. Their stern faces caused the animals to look away in fear. A group of hyenas, who had arrived early and found seating on the East Wing clearing, quickly vacated their spots and offered them to the Lion Pride. As expected, the monkey troops were perched in the tree branches. King Leo scanned the crowd, and when his gaze fell upon Funky Monkey, he simply stared directly at him with a facial expression that spoke volumes. In an instant, Funky Monkey’s jovial expression transformed into one of utter fear.

As the instigator of the meeting, Funky Monkey had to swing down to the centre clearing to begin the proceedings. By now, he had regained some composure and, encouraged by his group, he spoke out: “All you jungle inhabitants, all creatures great and small, we are all created equal, but somehow through the ages, some developed a ‘more equal than others’ attitude, resulting in the caste system we now experience. BUT, the time is now for us to speak up and choose for ourselves, from amongst ourselves, an individual or individuals to represent all of us!” A loud chorus of “amens” followed.

To get the ball rolling, Scarface saw it as his moment to make a move for power. However, jeers of derision cut short his declaration, and he sank back into his seat. Jacques, the King Cobra, hissed, “I’m smart and dangerous and already have the title of king. Choose me!” Clever Mister Owl hooted, “No way! It was because of your great-grandpappy’s mistake in siding with the devil that we all have been put out of Paradise, the Garden of Eden! Man fell into sin, and the whole of creation has suffered ever since. You are not fit for a leadership role.”

Somewhere from the back of the crowd on the North side, a voice, later identified as that of Cleopatra, the Nile crocodile, called out, “Let us vote for Colin the elephant! We all know his tremendous strength, his quiet nature, and, more importantly to all you animals, he is a vegetarian! He and his kind will never hunt you down for food.” First one, then two, then a hundred different animal voices chorused together, “That is true, count my vote for Colin!”

Just as the idea gained momentum, Colin raised his trunk and, with a loud trumpet sound, brought the meeting to order. “Fellow animals,” he declared, “I have no desire to lord it over any of you. I am but a simple individual who honestly feels that politics is a curse put upon those who choose it. It suits individuals who are heartless, selfish, and obsessed with their worth. Thanks, but no thanks.” As he sat down, Ruth, his wife, patted him on the back and said, “Well done. I am proud of you.” Other animals’ names were put forward, but as each name was announced, they gracefully declined.

Funky Monkey looked around and asked, “Is there no one here who is prepared to take on the mantle of leadership? Do not let fear, worry, or doubt rob you of this wonderful chance to be a leader rather than just a ‘run with the crowd’ follower.” Sadly, or perhaps wisely, total silence ensued. To bring some lightness to the situation, a large group of birds, harmonizing their voices, began singing like a well-rehearsed choir.

Finally, a Vervet Monkey named Smarty swung through the treetops to the front, where he loudly declared, “I will take up your challenge, my dear cousin, if the animals will consider my nomination!” Some clever jack baboon interjected, “I’m scared of Tarzan, not Tarzan’s monkeys!” This led to a huge wave of derision spreading across the meeting.

Smarty’s twin brother, Rascal, a monkey well-known for his pranks, saw what was happening and sprang into action. Very few within his group knew his ability to imitate sounds foreign to monkeys. He quickly and quietly swung through the treetops towards the Western side, knowing that the wind was currently blowing Eastwards and would carry the sound he was about to make. Just out of sight from the clearing but close enough for his prank, he bellowed out a loud Tarzan imitation: “AHH, OH AHH!” He watched the sound float out to the crowd in the clearing and carry over the audience seated there. With a broad smile on his face, he returned and observed the effect of his prank.

Many of the older animals recognized that “voice” and sat in amazement. Had Tarzan returned? King Leo, remembering his last encounter with the grown man-child raised by the Vervet Monkey Tribe, was visibly shaking with fear, knowing he was no match in close combat with the Ape Man. Interestingly, Smarty looked around and saw the derision turn to fear and admiration. The question was raised, “Has Tarzan returned?” to which an elderly female monkey replied, “No, but it is good to know that he has your respect. He has promised to return one day. He is the true King of the Jungle.” Smarty, now a little wiser, retracted his nomination.

Again, silence ensued, but this time King Leo spoke out: “It would seem that there are no takers for the offer of replacing me, so I now, still as King, declare this meeting’s business concluded.” He paused, then added, “I have one more thing to say: as of today, the moratorium on Funky Monkey’s grace period as a protected species is removed. He is now fair game for anyone to hunt. I want to hunt him myself. I wonder how Funky Monkey meat would taste.”

King Leo’s last remark made Funky Monkey the target of almost all the carnivores present. Funky Monkey immediately skedaddled out of the meeting, now realizing his time of “fun in the sun” had ended and it was time to “flee into the trees to save your life.” He was now on the run, rueing the day of his foolishness.