Doubtless, you've all heard. About the gorilla suits in the park. How countless men, children, women, infirm and elderly were lured inside by the slapshod promise of merriment these costumes seemed to promise.
And how, once these gorilla suits were donned, they would catch fire! And the shrieks from the wearers of the gorilla suits would be anguished. But it was sort of a little funny to watch people die in agony while clutching, trying to rip off, a gorilla suit.
They were much more sinister than the two-person horse costume that made its wearers have sex that appeared behind the Diner.
The gorilla suits burned and burned, but never consumed themselves. Folks came to their own conclusions about what lesson this was meant to teach us.
Why did people keep putting the gorilla suits on, knowing they'd be incinerated? Well, wouldn't it be funny to wear a gorilla suit? It's something you always think of, but would never go out of your way to do. Maybe they forgot they'd be brutally killed.
Why didn't the village do anything about it? Most elected officials were day-dreaming about oiled, olive-skinned Grecian wrestlers struggling against each others' supple bodies, or drinking at the Village Hall-basement ping-pong table with no lights on.
