The hard part’s going to be holding your face in this position most of the evening, but if you can pull that off and maintain at least the semblance of a monkeylike stance, you’ll be a dead ringer for the real thing:
Make it even more realistic by putting some élan and enthusiasm into your time as a cymbal-playing monkey; become the monkey as thoroughly as possible, with all your simian heart. Cavort about, scratch yourself and perform as many silly cartoon-like monkey shenanigans as you can think of. People are intensely drawn to cymbal-playing monkeys, although most are unable to explain the attraction, and they’ll find you particularly arresting in these slimming, vertically striped pants.
Your special accessory will be
some anti monkey butt powder. You’ll sorely need it, too; jumping around making monkey sounds, attempting to synchronize your cymbal crashing with your eye blinking, teeth baring and breathing while wearing heat-trapping tailed trousers means you’ll be awash in butt sweat in no time. But it’ll be okay—no one will confuse you with the goosh pants guy, because this stuff really works. Wave the container around and be sure to announce that you’re going to the powder room. Then spill some on your shoes so that people are sure you’ve applied enough product when you return, refreshed. Generously offer to share the powder with anyone who looks hot or crotchety. “Don’t worry, it’ll absorb moisture and reduce irritation, not turn into a big load of pants gravy,” you can assure them, reassuringly.
Yes, there’s a chance that someone’s going to take your cymbals away from you before the party ends, possibly even quite early in the evening. But for the next several years people will probably give you cymbal-playing monkeys as gifts. So see? It’ll all be worth it.
