The Calm Before the Screech

Marvin McCrackle woke up the next morning convinced that yesterday had been a shared hallucination between himself and the city.

This theory lasted exactly three seconds.

His alarm went off on time—an unsettling development—and when Marvin rolled over, he found a banana neatly placed on his pillow. Peeled. Slightly squished. Judgemental.

Marvin stared at it.

“No,” he said firmly.

The banana did not respond.

He sat up slowly and noticed something else: his apartment was… tidy. Suspiciously tidy. The chair that normally held a month’s worth of laundry was empty. The sink was clean. Even the rogue LEGO brick was gone.

Pinned to the fridge was a note written in thick marker.

RELAX. I OWE YOU ONE.

—M

Marvin’s eye twitched.

He checked his pockets. Wallet: present. Keys: present. Phone: present. Sanity: pending review.

Against all logic, Marvin felt oddly… rested.

He showered without incident. The water stayed warm. The curtain stayed attached. He dressed without injury. The universe, it seemed, had decided to take a coffee break.

“Don’t get used to this,” Marvin told himself.

Outside, the city behaved. Buses stopped. Pigeons minded their business. A street musician played in tune. Marvin walked to the café on the corner, enjoying the novelty of being ignored by fate.

The barista smiled. “The usual?”

Marvin froze. “I… don’t have a usual.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You will.”

She handed him a coffee he did not remember ordering. It was perfect.

Marvin took a sip and nearly cried.

That’s when the café television flickered.

BREAKING NEWS scrolled across the screen.

Marvin turned just as the reporter continued.

“—local authorities are asking for help identifying a highly intelligent monkey seen across the city yesterday, involved in multiple public disturbances and at least one business meeting—”

The screen cut to footage.

The monkey.

Wearing Marvin’s tie.

Marvin choked on his coffee.

“Sir, are you okay?” the barista asked.

“Yes,” Marvin wheezed. “Just… allergic to primates.”

His phone buzzed.

Unknown Number.

He answered with dread.

“Marvin!” said an overly enthusiastic voice. “It’s Brenda from Corporate Synergy Solutions.”

Marvin sat down hard. “Hello, Brenda.”

“We’d like you to come in today,” she said. “There’s been some… internal discussion.”

Marvin glanced at the TV, where the monkey now appeared to be climbing a statue.

“About yesterday?”

“Yes. And about you.”

Marvin swallowed. “Should I be concerned?”

“Oh no,” Brenda said cheerfully. “Quite the opposite. We think you’re exactly what we need.”

The call ended.

Marvin stared at his reflection in the coffee.

A week ago, his biggest problem had been unpaid bills.

Now he was somehow linked to a citywide monkey incident and possibly a job offer.

As he left the café, a folded paper slid under the door behind him.

He picked it up.

A crude drawing of a building. A stick figure labeled YOU. And a monkey in a suit pointing at a clock.

Written underneath:

TODAY. DON’T BE LATE.

Marvin looked at the sky.

“Fine,” he said. “But if this is a prank, I’m billing you for therapy.”

Somewhere above, a distant screech echoed—playful, promising, and deeply, deeply alarming.

Marvin straightened his shirt and walked toward whatever awaited him next.

The calm, he knew now, was never permanent.

It was just the universe inhaling.

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