Medical Advancements encouraged by Gin

"Y'see...they gotsit all wrong dere at the Mayonnaise Clink with their fancy-schmancy pacemakers. I've been kickin' an idear 'round me bean now for something goin' on five months--give or take that month-long stint in County (couldn't get much in the way o' clever thinkin' done there...had to worry 'bout my safety, knowwhadImean?)-- that fellers with bad tickers could save themselves a sockfull o' nickels (yeah, that can be a weapon and a reference to alotta moolah) if they get themselves a helper monkey...one of the littler kind (easier to bring 'round witcha...a gorilla or 'rangOtang gonna be disruptive at, say, Church or a trip to the salon) and have the lil' bastard constantly massaging and squeezin' your blood pump, dig? Sure, ya might need to have some sorto incision made so it could get in there and all...but that ain't no big deal, right? From what I've seen on the Cable TV and heard from me chums in the Zoo-bidness, the monkeys love grabbin' shit...like all the time. Their little monkey doodads, shit, food, other monkeys, ropes, twigs, rocks, whatever. Take this natural tendency o' there's and puttum to work keepin' people alive. The grocery bill for a monkey...y'know, a few bananas a day...a change o' diapers...maybe a lil' hat so they look sophisticated and all (maybe with a sign that sez they's On-Duty and shouldn't be messed with) has GOTTA be cheaper than the bill for a pacemaker, y'see what I'm saying? And What a conversation starter that'd be! Probably really score with the chicks, too. At least with the ones with soft spots fer monkeys...and I've known quite a few in my time, that's fer damn sure."

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