A rope hangs over a pulley. On one side is a monkey. On the other is a bunch of bananas. The monkey and the bananas weigh exactly the same, the rope is massless and unstretchable, and the pulley turns frictionlessly. Does the monkey get the bananas?
Yes. The monkey pulls up on the rope, then poops, becoming lighter. The bananas sink and the monkey climbs up on top the pulley and then hauls the bananas up.
Answer: Just before you die, you see a light at the end of a long tunnel. Coming out of the light is the silhouette of a distinguished older gentleman in formal attire. He’s a man who appears to know everything. “It’s your final moment here on Earth,” he tells you. “This is the last thing you’ll do here.”
“What is poop?” you reply.
“That’s right for eight hundred dollars,” says Trebek. “So long kiddo. See you in Double Jeopardy.”
You go to the zoo and are standing at the chimpanzee cage. A wizened old matriarch looks right at you and she seems almost human. Suddenly you get pegged from the side by an object coming out of nowhere. The damn chimps threw it at you! What is it? You look down. It’s a rotten banana.
Gross! You go to the bathroom to wash up. You wash and wash, mesmerized by the soap bubbles and flakes of skin twirling down the sink drain. Just as you’re leaving, you feel something squish under the heel of your brand new shoes. What is it? You look down. It’s souvenir baby seal some kid dropped.
You pick it up and take it outside. You look everywhere, but you don’t see a kid who looks like they need a seal. You do see a beautiful woman, so you smile and give her the seal. She thanks you and asks if you want to grab a giraffe coffee at the safari cafe, which is a normal cafe except that everything you buy has an animal name and costs three times as much. You order a safari dead cow burger. One of the toppings looks funny. It’s like a light brownish smear. What is it? You sniff it, then cautiously take a lick. It’s tahini.
The beautiful woman really like you. She takes you back to her place and puts on some Coltrane. She grabs you to dance and swirls and swirls until you topple together, falling eternally until everything is red silk and dizzying kisses. You reach down and feel something soft and warm. What is it? You look down to investigate. It’s her puppy, crawling under the sheets.
You impregnated then married the beautiful woman. You’re standing in the waiting room, pacing. A doctor in a white gown comes out and says your last name, preceded by “mister”. You’re not used to being called that.
“What happened?” you ask.
The doctor looks tired, but happy after the grueling 174-hour delivery. “Your wife is fine,” he says.
“And the baby?”
He gives you a wan smile. “Congratulations,” he says. “It’s a healthy little poop.”
“Sorry, Freudian slip. It’s a healthy little girl.”