On the flinging of Poo.

Two Red-Assed Orangutans, Phil and Mike, were sitting in their tree. Their tree was entirely filled with chimpanzees, who were loud and annoying, but it's a nice tree so they liked it and stayed.

One day, all the chimps in the tree were having their big annual poo flinging contest. They were flinging poo thirty, fourty, even some of the bigger ones were throwing turds some fifty feet.

Phil and Mike, as they liked to do, made fun of most of the seemingly weak-armed chimps. The two had been poo flinging experts back in their previous tree, a Red-Assed Orangutan tree, but now that they had moved Mike didn't to it as much as Phil anymore, but still reminisced with Phil about poo-flinging glories of days past.

After a couple of rather stinging insults from Mike directed at the chimps and their frail poo flinging form, Phil thought he'd razz Mike for a change of pace and claim that Mike couldn't throw a turd 40 feet. Mike had thrown poo a hundred feet back in the old days when turd hurtling took up most of the day, and it was downright insulting that Phil would claim he couldn't toss a buttnugget a measly 40 feet.

Unfortunately, some of the chimps overheard the argument and thought it a good time to chime in and egg Mike on and get some revenge for all his chimp related insults over the past months. Most of the chimps were jealous of Phil and Mike's larger stature and more impressive bellowing skills, (to say nothing of those glorious bright red asses) So, soon the whole tree was chattering about Mike and Phil and their challenge. It was too late to back down for Mike, he had to prove himself.

Phil was a little worried because he knew his friend hadn't chucked a turd more than 10 feet in a while, and even then only for the purpose of sheer necessity (a chimp had been looking the other way while perched precariously on the end of a branch- the resulting fall was as spectacularly hilarious as it was fatal). You see turdchucking had fallen out of fashion as they'd done so darn much of it in the old tree. He whispered to Mike that maybe they should just forget about the whole thing and get on with life, but it was too late- the pressure was ratcheted up and the poo needed flinging.

So, the next morning, at the crack of dawn (it flies farthest in the morning, when covered with poo dew) Phil and Mike went down to the Poo Tossing ring at the base of the tree and
Phil threw a couple of practice tosses out the the 38-45 foot rang so Mike was sure to get the right fecal trajectory.

Mike picked out the most aerodynamic, dimpled stool he could find, heaved back, and hurled it into the morning sky.

Thump. 32 feet.

"Just warming up, good one Mike, now you're ready" encouraged Phil. He could see in Mike's eyes he was surprised at how short it had fallen. "Must've been my twingy elbow", he muttered while picking up another stinky dimpler.

Grunt, heave, eyes to the sky, Splat. 33 feet.

Silence in the tree as Mike grabbed the nearest colon biscuit he could reach.

Splud. 29 feet.

Off flew a corn-studded stink cylinder

splat. 28 feet.

silence.

Mike slowly walked back to the tree and swung up a few branches to the usual perch. Phil followed in silence.

Chimps stopped by from time to time, either goading poor Mike or offering advice on butt-mudslinging, but none of it was really that helpful. They were weak little chimps, not strong and gorgeously red-assed Orangutans. It wasn't s'posed to be that way.

Phil felt terrible as well, as he could see that his good friend, the only one in the tree that he had known since the old days, was now worse off because of his own actions.

Neither of them slept all that well that night.

The next morning, Phil walked over to Mike's branch and put his arm around his old pal. He brought his other hand from around his back and opened it in front of mike. there in his hand was the most perfectly formed buttrocket ever produced by a Red Assed Orangutan. Nearly round with some excellent gripping stones on the seam and a couple of sticks poking out in several spots, were he in a better mood, he would have flung it on the spot for sheer joy.

"New challenge," whispered Phil. "See that chimp on the edge of that branch?"

Mike smiled, and hurled the chocolate missile.