As a weathergirl on a local TV station, Jenni

As a weathergirl on a local TV station, Jenni was good. Really good. She could predict what the clouds would bring two whole weeks in advance. She once foretold that a shower of

brides, or a Bridal Shower would be occurring in the News Studio. And it happened. Thing is, she's a weathergirl. She drinks coffee with vodka, takes pills on flights and

bludgeons pigeons in public parks only when an audience of children is available. She is also known for her expertise in bare-back intercourse in various truck-stops throughout

her days in the war. She didn't know when it would have been useful until this moment. She was about to start the process but then a monkey looking hobo jumps at her and

said "Excuse me,would you like to watch a wildlife film about bonobo sexuality?" She flinched at his decidedly forward anthropological come on, reflexively karate chopping the hobo

. Rucksack and stogie went flying. As the tramp fell into a heap, the porkpie hat came off and it was revealed that he was an orangutan. Goodall regretted her punch and assisted.

The punch had been too sweet, too orangey. Not enough pineapple or guava to give it that perfect kick. The organgutan lay there dying, struggling to finish his final sentence.

"EEEEEEEEEEEEE. EEEeEEEEeeeeee, Eiiiihhhaaahhh." Finally dead. Maybe I should think again what is so bad about that punch drink. Could

it be the actinides I laced it with, or the soft glow from the bioluminescent and highly venomous jellyfish I let loose in it? Most likely I'll never know for sure." Oh, there's

got to be a morning after, 'cause if that sun don't shine, I'm gonna pack my bags, and walk out the door. And never visit Lucrezia Borgia's petting zoo again.