Evil Monkey:
Idjut.

Jeff:
Moron.

Evil Monkey:
Cretin.

Jeff:
Martian.

Evil Monkey:
Martian?

Jeff:
It rhymes with cretin.

Evil Monkey:
No it doesn’t.

Jeff:
Cretian.

Evil Monkey:
I’ve decided I don’t like peoples much any more.

Jeff:
Me neither.

Evil Monkey:
Ya wanna ban some?

Jeff:
What’ll that do?

Evil Monkey:
Ya know, ya say, “I won’t read so-and-so.” Or “I won’t listen to so-and-so.”

Jeff:
Like, “I won’t read Britney Spears”?

Evil Monkey:
Er, kinda.

Jeff:
I won’t listen to Matt Staggs’ polka band anymore. He hates French horns.

Evil Monkey:
I won’t look at Cat Rambo’s pottery. She hates clay.

Jeff:
I won’t crunch Ekaterina Sedia’s faberge eggs underfoot. She hates chickens!

Evil Monkey:
I won’t watch John Scalzi’s puppet shows. He hates socks!

Jeff:
The Jonas Brothers. On the list!

Evil Monkey:
Donkeys!

Jeff:
Why?!

Evil Monkey:
I just hate ‘em, that’s all. From way back.

Jeff:
On the list!

Evil Monkey:
Apples that have gotten all rotten.

Jeff:
Jello shots. Gross!

Evil Monkey:
John Ringo!

Jeff:
Don’t you mean the other Ringo?

Evil Monkey:
No.

Jeff:
Rats that can’t hold their liquor.

Evil Monkey:
Wombats that carry machine guns.

Jeff:
Giant ravens with human feet!

Evil Monkey:
Okay, now maybe we’re straying from our original intent a bit.

Jeff:
Right, right. Should stay focused. Or at least more focused than that…

Evil Monkey:
Maybe longer lists. You start.

Jeff:
Chuck P. Jumped the shark.
Chuck Norris. Jumped a bigger shark.
Chucky! Ate the shark.
Um, let’s see. What about…No, not her. She’s a national treasure even if she’s an idiot.
No, not him. If I put him on the list I’ll never get any review coverage there.
No, he’s harmless. Just not someone you want to have to talk to in person is all.
I would put her on the list, but she’s got too big a posse. I’d spend days sorting that out.
And he smells bad, but that’s no crime.
That one helped me once even if he’s got a screw loose.
That other one didn’t help me, but I know he’s got a disease…

Evil Monkey:
Will you get on with it! What about publishing houses? You gonna put any of them on your list.

Jeff:
What would that do?

Evil Monkey:
Show ‘em who’s boss.

Jeff:
But…dozens and dozens of people work for some of those houses. How do you ban a whole publisher?

Evil Monkey:
It’s easy. You just do.

Jeff:
Well, what about dead authors? Celine was a racist pig!

Evil Monkey:
Ever learn anything from Celine?

Jeff:
Um, yeah. A few things.

Evil Monkey:
So you’d crawl over fifty nice writers who know jack-shit to get to one dead asshole with good advice?

Jeff:
Uh, I wouldn’t put it that way.

Evil Monkey:
I would. I guess Celine’s out. What about Hitler?

Jeff:
Never learned anything from Hitler.

Evil Monkey:
Okay, then, that’s a good start!
Hitler.
Stalin.
Darth Vader.
Scrappy Doo.

Jeff:
Evil Monkey.

Evil Monkey:
What. Did. You. Say.

Jeff:
You heard me.

Evil Monkey:
But, dude, I’ve been saving you from yourself for years and years. Without me, you wouldn’t have a pot to piss in.

Jeff:
Interesting perspective.

Evil Monkey:
Okay, then I’m putting you on my list.

Jeff:
Why?!

Evil Monkey:
Because I’m on your list.

Jeff:
So we’re not speaking to each other now?

Evil Monkey:
Not until you take me off your list.

Jeff:

Evil Monkey:

Jeff:

Evil Monkey:

Jeff:
I can’t stand this. I’m taking you off my list.

Evil Monkey:
I’m putting you on my list twice.

Jeff:
Bastard. I cast you out!

Evil Monkey:
The mind is its own place, and in itself
Can make a heav’n of hell, a hell of heav’n.