For the next few weeks things seemed to be going fine. Hannah Montana was doing well at his new job, was kicking in for the rent and even set the clock on the microwave for me. It was, in retrospect, too good to last, and when Hannah Montana finally figured out that he despised me and the rest of us hairless monstrosities, he escaped my apartment to plot our downfall. I knew I had to do something, if only because I needed him to write down the trick for remembering how to tie shoes one more time.
But I found that when tracking a hyper-intelligent, completely furious primate, it's not worth calling the police. It's just a really awkward, disjointed conversation to have -- they don't really have the right call-out codes or procedures for dealing with this kind of situation. And in my instance, they even strongly implied that I was in more trouble than Hannah Montana.
Instead, if the same thing happens to you, I'd suggest you begin searching neighborhoods your former ward is likely to frequent. Try trolling the streets, driving up and down trailing a banana behind your car. If your ape or monkey is anything like Hannah Montana, this won't entice him out of hiding at all. But it will infuriate him enough to cloud his flawless monkey-judgment, and bait him into launching an attack on mankind too soon.
You know that when one of the steps involves baiting someone into attacking mankind too soon, you're dealing with a How-To Guide with balls.
Unable to find his own kind living in the city, Hannah Montana instead grew to become a leader of the local population of stray cats, as well as a group of disenchanted Wal-Mart employees/species-traitors.
He earns a button for every confirmed kill.
As for myself, I knew that to fight a cat-armed monkey, I was going to have to think like a cat-armed monkey.
"I should throw these cats at things."
Knowing that, I equipped myself with thick clothes capable of withstanding a cat scratch, 12 cans of tuna fish to serve as cat-distractions and eight dollars which I could use to bribe up to five Wal-Mart employees, should they get in my way.
The actual fighting turned out to be pretty easy, most of the heavy lifting being handled by animal control when a couple of restaurants complained. Then when Wal-Mart's senior management declared Hannah Montana's army to be a union and fired them all, morale shattered, leaving Hannah Montana alone and exposed.
If you've been faithfully following this guide, by this point you'll find yourself standing precariously on the girder of an under construction skyscraper, facing your former creation, the pair of you armed with bicycle chains. Beneath you, the streets are swollen with people, eager to watch humanity's fate be decided. So you'd better be damned sure you have something dramatic to say to let all understand the gravity of what's happening. I urge you to choose something better than, "Hannah Montana, I loved you! I loved you like a brother!" which will really only confuse people.
The actual fight itself will depend a lot on how good your balance is, and whether you read my classic (and now-removed) column How to Attack Animals with a Bicycle Chain.
It turns out that when a man clad in head-to-toe denim and reeking of tuna fish is caught whipping a monkey with a bicycle chain, people are naturally inclined to take the monkey's side. Knowing that speaking aloud would only confirm my story, Hannah Montana remained silent as the police intervened and chased me from the skyscraper. On a unrelated note, it turns out that the top of an active construction site is the worst possible place to learn Parkour in, in much the same way as head-to-toe denim is the worst possible outfit to learn Parkour in. When I bravely regained consciousness days later, I found out that all charges had been dropped because of the good laugh I gave everyone.
Hannah Montana escaped during my lengthy and hilarious fall (I'm told that I hit basically everything on the way down. It took me almost two minutes to reach the ground). I'd like to think that he's forgiven the grudge he held against me, and by extension humanity. But if anyone happens to see Wal-Mart doing something evil, well, I guess we know who to blame.
For more from Bucholz, check out If Harry Potter Was Written for Middle-Aged Men and Editing Your Comment Spam for Optimal Porn Delivery.