Monkeyshines & Stinker
Monkeyshines and Stinker - Story
Monkeyshines and Stinker: Door-to-Door Dreamers
Downtown Ocala, Florida, bustled with its usual mix of sunshine, palm-lined sidewalks, and the occasional eccentric. Among the crowd strode Monkeyshines, a dapper monkey in a crisp navy-blue business suit, polished loafers, and a snazzy tie. His trusty companion, Stinker the skunk, pranced beside him, his tail waving proudly like a banner.
“Stinker, you hear about my cousins up in Georgia?” Monkeyshines adjusted his tie and scanned the street. “Broke outta that zoo last week. No plan. No finesse. Just raw monkey energy. Now they’re stuck in Atlanta, hiding in trash cans.”
Stinker flicked an ear. “Oh, I heard all right. Dumb as rocks, those cousins of yours. They need jobs, Monkeyshines. Jobs and ties. But do we have time to teach them civics, business acumen, and personal grooming? No, sir, we do not. Too many people in Ocala need our services.”
Monkeyshines chuckled. “True enough. Though imagine ‘em in suits, pitching Acme Financial Planners. ‘Hello, ma’am, have you considered diversifying your portfolio with this here multi-level opportunity?’ I’d pay to see that.”
Stinker snorted. “You’d pay with peanuts, and you know it.”
As they walked, Monkeyshines tipped his hat at a passing jogger with a golden retriever. Stinker paused, staring intently at the dog.
“What are you doing, Stinker?” Monkeyshines asked.
“Dog whispering,” Stinker replied, dramatically closing his eyes. “Shhh. I’m telling this fine canine he’s a very good boy. He’s listening. Watch his tail—”
Before Stinker could finish, a distinct odor wafted through the air. The retriever stopped wagging, barked once, and bolted, dragging its owner down the street. Stinker looked sheepish.
“Oops. That’s the problem with whispering: one false move, and it’s a stink bomb.”
Monkeyshines sighed. “Your talent is undeniable, but your timing stinks, literally.”
They ambled down the street, occasionally stopping to hand out glossy Acme brochures or pitch their “Multi-Level All of That” memberships to wary shopkeepers. Around noon, they spotted their favorite prospect, Mildred, a sprightly 90-year-old who always seemed to totter out of Magoo’s Bar and Grill in a cheerful haze. She was a guaranteed sale, provided she’d had enough martinis.
“Stinker,” Monkeyshines said, nudging his partner, “go into the briefcase. Let’s find something for Mildred. She’s ripe for another pitch.”
Stinker hopped onto a bench, flipping open Monkeyshines’ leather briefcase. “We got options today. A ‘self-healing stress ball,’ a subscription to a newsletter about newsletters, and—oh, here’s a good one—a ‘Make Your Own Crystal’ kit that’s 80% glitter.”
“Perfect. Mildred loves shiny stuff.” Monkeyshines adjusted his cuffs as Mildred wobbled out of Magoo’s, holding onto the doorframe for balance.
“Monkeyshines! Stinker!” she called, her voice tinged with delight. “What a surprise! You boys got somethin’ new for me today?”
“Always, Mildred,” Monkeyshines said, bowing slightly. “But first, how are you? The sunshine treating you right?”
“Oh, you know me. Still kickin’, still drinkin’. And this Florida sun? Warms my old bones like a brand-new heater.” She squinted at Stinker. “Is he wearin’ cologne, or did somethin’ die in an alley?”
Stinker grinned. “Depends on your perspective, Mildred.”
Mildred cackled and waved a hand. “Well, come on, boys. Let’s get inside and talk business. Drinks are on me.”
---
Inside Magoo’s Bar and Grill, the trio settled into a corner booth. The place smelled of fried fish and stale beer, with a jukebox crooning an old country tune in the background. Mildred ordered her usual—a dry martini—and insisted Monkeyshines and Stinker have root beers.
“So,” Mildred said, leaning forward, “what kinda snake oil you peddlin’ today? And don’t take offense. I love me some snake oil.”
Monkeyshines slid the glitter-filled “Make Your Own Crystal” kit across the table. “Mildred, this is not just any product. This is a gateway to enlightenment, creativity, and the perfect centerpiece for your coffee table. With just a sprinkle of imagination and a dash of patience, you can craft a crystal so dazzling, your neighbors will think you’ve struck gold.”
Mildred blinked. “A crystal, you say? What’s it do?”
“What doesn’t it do?” Monkeyshines leaned in. “It catches light like a diamond, transforms any room into a mystical wonderland, and—if placed correctly on your mantel—balances the energies of your home.”
Mildred squinted at the box. “How much?”
“Seventy-nine ninety-five,” Stinker said promptly, puffing up with pride. “But for you, Mildred, we’re offering a 10% discount.”
“Why, thank you, Stinker! You’re a real gent.” Mildred reached into her bag, pulled out a wad of cash, and slapped it on the table. “Done deal. Now, how about another round?”
---
As the afternoon wore on, Mildred became progressively looser with her purse strings and her words. By her third martini, she was telling tales about her time as a dancer in Havana, much to Monkeyshines’ amusement.
“You boys ever dance? Monkeyshines, you got the legs for it. Stinker, not so much, but I bet you could twirl.”
“I prefer to let my charisma do the dancing,” Monkeyshines replied. “And Stinker here? He’s got two left feet.”
“And one very active scent gland,” Stinker added, raising his root beer in mock toast.
Mildred laughed so hard she snorted. “Ah, you two are a riot. I don’t know why people think salesmen are boring. You’re the highlight of my week.”
“That’s because we’re not just salesmen, Mildred,” Monkeyshines said, smoothing his tie. “We’re dream merchants. We sell possibilities, ambitions, and sometimes glitter-filled crystal kits.”
“And occasionally,” Stinker added, “we dabble in motivational speaking. For a fee.”
Mildred shook her head, still laughing. “Well, whatever you’re sellin’, I’m buyin’. You boys are a hoot.”
By the time the bar’s happy hour ended, Mildred had bought not only the crystal kit but also a stress ball, a financial planning session, and a dubious-sounding newsletter subscription. As they helped her to a cab, she hugged them both.
“Don’t you boys ever change,” she said, her voice slurring but warm. “Ocala needs ya.”
---
As the sun began to dip behind the skyline, Monkeyshines and Stinker strolled back toward their office, their briefcase significantly lighter.
“Another successful day,” Monkeyshines said, tipping his hat to a passing couple.
“Yup,” Stinker agreed. “And Mildred? She’s good people. A little loopy, but she’s got spirit.”
“True,” Monkeyshines said. “And with customers like her, Stinker, we’ll be millionaires in no time.”
“Millionaires?” Stinker raised an eyebrow. “Buddy, if we’re millionaires, I want my own penthouse. No sharing.”
Monkeyshines chuckled. “Deal. But you’re still carrying the briefcase.”
As they disappeared down the street, their chatter mingled with the hum of downtown Ocala—a pair of unlikely entrepreneurs on a never-ending quest to sell dreams, one glittery crystal kit at a time.
Sponsor of The Paul Truesdell Podcast:
Truesdell Wealth, Inc.
Upcoming Casual Breakfast Conversations
In-Person / Wednesday, December 11h
The Truesdell Military Procurement Portfolio When Indexes Stink
Stone Creek Golf Club - The Grille
TEXT, OR CONTACT FORM US NOW
In-Person / Thursday, December 12h
MICA Income & Return Lock, Not Knowing is a "Stinker"
Stone Creek Golf Club - The Grille
In-Person / Wednesday, January 8th
The Cut to Social Security Will Stink
Stone Creek Golf Club - The Grille
Online & On-Demand
Additional Engagements Online & On-Demand Will Be Scheduled - See TruesdellWealth.com/events
Reservations are available by calling 352-612-1000 or the CONTACT FORM
( https://truesdellwealth.com/contact )
Eirinn Abu and Tunnel to Towers Foundation Concert Fri, Feb 28, 2025 @ 7:00PM Circle Square Cultural Center, 8395 SW 80th Street, Ocala Florida - Join Eirinn Abu and two of his Miami Sound Machine band members for a wonderful concert in support of the Tunnel to Towers Foundation. The event theme is a night of music and movies.
https://eirinnabu.com/event/5760795/695871447/eirinn-abu-and-tunnel-to-towers-foundation-concert
Corporate Sponsors: Truesdell Wealth, Truesdell Consulting, and Truesdell Insurance.
https://truesdell.net/
Monkeyshines and Stinker: Door-to-Door Dreamers
Downtown Ocala, Florida, bustled with its usual mix of sunshine, palm-lined sidewalks, and the occasional eccentric. Among the crowd strode Monkeyshines, a dapper monkey in a crisp navy-blue business suit, polished loafers, and a snazzy tie. His trusty companion, Stinker the skunk, pranced beside him, his tail waving proudly like a banner.
“Stinker, you hear about my cousins up in Georgia?” Monkeyshines adjusted his tie and scanned the street. “Broke outta that zoo last week. No plan. No finesse. Just raw monkey energy. Now they’re stuck in Atlanta, hiding in trash cans.”
Stinker flicked an ear. “Oh, I heard all right. Dumb as rocks, those cousins of yours. They need jobs, Monkeyshines. Jobs and ties. But do we have time to teach them civics, business acumen, and personal grooming? No, sir, we do not. Too many people in Ocala need our services.”
Monkeyshines chuckled. “True enough. Though imagine ‘em in suits, pitching Acme Financial Planners. ‘Hello, ma’am, have you considered diversifying your portfolio with this here multi-level opportunity?’ I’d pay to see that.”
Stinker snorted. “You’d pay with peanuts, and you know it.”
As they walked, Monkeyshines tipped his hat at a passing jogger with a golden retriever. Stinker paused, staring intently at the dog.
“What are you doing, Stinker?” Monkeyshines asked.
“Dog whispering,” Stinker replied, dramatically closing his eyes. “Shhh. I’m telling this fine canine he’s a very good boy. He’s listening. Watch his tail—”
Before Stinker could finish, a distinct odor wafted through the air. The retriever stopped wagging, barked once, and bolted, dragging its owner down the street. Stinker looked sheepish.
“Oops. That’s the problem with whispering: one false move, and it’s a stink bomb.”
Monkeyshines sighed. “Your talent is undeniable, but your timing stinks, literally.”
They ambled down the street, occasionally stopping to hand out glossy Acme brochures or pitch their “Multi-Level All of That” memberships to wary shopkeepers. Around noon, they spotted their favorite prospect, Mildred, a sprightly 90-year-old who always seemed to totter out of Magoo’s Bar and Grill in a cheerful haze. She was a guaranteed sale, provided she’d had enough martinis.
“Stinker,” Monkeyshines said, nudging his partner, “go into the briefcase. Let’s find something for Mildred. She’s ripe for another pitch.”
Stinker hopped onto a bench, flipping open Monkeyshines’ leather briefcase. “We got options today. A ‘self-healing stress ball,’ a subscription to a newsletter about newsletters, and—oh, here’s a good one—a ‘Make Your Own Crystal’ kit that’s 80% glitter.”
“Perfect. Mildred loves shiny stuff.” Monkeyshines adjusted his cuffs as Mildred wobbled out of Magoo’s, holding onto the doorframe for balance.
“Monkeyshines! Stinker!” she called, her voice tinged with delight. “What a surprise! You boys got somethin’ new for me today?”
“Always, Mildred,” Monkeyshines said, bowing slightly. “But first, how are you? The sunshine treating you right?”
“Oh, you know me. Still kickin’, still drinkin’. And this Florida sun? Warms my old bones like a brand-new heater.” She squinted at Stinker. “Is he wearin’ cologne, or did somethin’ die in an alley?”
Stinker grinned. “Depends on your perspective, Mildred.”
Mildred cackled and waved a hand. “Well, come on, boys. Let’s get inside and talk business. Drinks are on me.”
---
Inside Magoo’s Bar and Grill, the trio settled into a corner booth. The place smelled of fried fish and stale beer, with a jukebox crooning an old country tune in the background. Mildred ordered her usual—a dry martini—and insisted Monkeyshines and Stinker have root beers.
“So,” Mildred said, leaning forward, “what kinda snake oil you peddlin’ today? And don’t take offense. I love me some snake oil.”
Monkeyshines slid the glitter-filled “Make Your Own Crystal” kit across the table. “Mildred, this is not just any product. This is a gateway to enlightenment, creativity, and the perfect centerpiece for your coffee table. With just a sprinkle of imagination and a dash of patience, you can craft a crystal so dazzling, your neighbors will think you’ve struck gold.”
Mildred blinked. “A crystal, you say? What’s it do?”
“What doesn’t it do?” Monkeyshines leaned in. “It catches light like a diamond, transforms any room into a mystical wonderland, and—if placed correctly on your mantel—balances the energies of your home.”
Mildred squinted at the box. “How much?”
“Seventy-nine ninety-five,” Stinker said promptly, puffing up with pride. “But for you, Mildred, we’re offering a 10% discount.”
“Why, thank you, Stinker! You’re a real gent.” Mildred reached into her bag, pulled out a wad of cash, and slapped it on the table. “Done deal. Now, how about another round?”
---
As the afternoon wore on, Mildred became progressively looser with her purse strings and her words. By her third martini, she was telling tales about her time as a dancer in Havana, much to Monkeyshines’ amusement.
“You boys ever dance? Monkeyshines, you got the legs for it. Stinker, not so much, but I bet you could twirl.”
“I prefer to let my charisma do the dancing,” Monkeyshines replied. “And Stinker here? He’s got two left feet.”
“And one very active scent gland,” Stinker added, raising his root beer in mock toast.
Mildred laughed so hard she snorted. “Ah, you two are a riot. I don’t know why people think salesmen are boring. You’re the highlight of my week.”
“That’s because we’re not just salesmen, Mildred,” Monkeyshines said, smoothing his tie. “We’re dream merchants. We sell possibilities, ambitions, and sometimes glitter-filled crystal kits.”
“And occasionally,” Stinker added, “we dabble in motivational speaking. For a fee.”
Mildred shook her head, still laughing. “Well, whatever you’re sellin’, I’m buyin’. You boys are a hoot.”
By the time the bar’s happy hour ended, Mildred had bought not only the crystal kit but also a stress ball, a financial planning session, and a dubious-sounding newsletter subscription. As they helped her to a cab, she hugged them both.
“Don’t you boys ever change,” she said, her voice slurring but warm. “Ocala needs ya.”
---
As the sun began to dip behind the skyline, Monkeyshines and Stinker strolled back toward their office, their briefcase significantly lighter.
“Another successful day,” Monkeyshines said, tipping his hat to a passing couple.
“Yup,” Stinker agreed. “And Mildred? She’s good people. A little loopy, but she’s got spirit.”
“True,” Monkeyshines said. “And with customers like her, Stinker, we’ll be millionaires in no time.”
“Millionaires?” Stinker raised an eyebrow. “Buddy, if we’re millionaires, I want my own penthouse. No sharing.”
Monkeyshines chuckled. “Deal. But you’re still carrying the briefcase.”
As they disappeared down the street, their chatter mingled with the hum of downtown Ocala—a pair of unlikely entrepreneurs on a never-ending quest to sell dreams, one glittery crystal kit at a time.
Sponsor of The Paul Truesdell Podcast:
Truesdell Wealth, Inc.
Upcoming Casual Breakfast Conversations
In-Person / Wednesday, December 11h
The Truesdell Military Procurement Portfolio When Indexes Stink
Stone Creek Golf Club - The Grille
TEXT, OR CONTACT FORM US NOW
In-Person / Thursday, December 12h
MICA Income & Return Lock, Not Knowing is a "Stinker"
Stone Creek Golf Club - The Grille
In-Person / Wednesday, January 8th
The Cut to Social Security Will Stink
Stone Creek Golf Club - The Grille
Online & On-Demand
Additional Engagements Online & On-Demand Will Be Scheduled - See TruesdellWealth.com/events
Reservations are available by calling 352-612-1000 or the CONTACT FORM
( https://truesdellwealth.com/contact )
Eirinn Abu and Tunnel to Towers Foundation Concert Fri, Feb 28, 2025 @ 7:00PM Circle Square Cultural Center, 8395 SW 80th Street, Ocala Florida - Join Eirinn Abu and two of his Miami Sound Machine band members for a wonderful concert in support of the Tunnel to Towers Foundation. The event theme is a night of music and movies.
https://eirinnabu.com/event/5760795/695871447/eirinn-abu-and-tunnel-to-towers-foundation-concert
Corporate Sponsors: Truesdell Wealth, Truesdell Consulting, and Truesdell Insurance.
https://truesdell.net/