We’re talking short,” says explorer. “They gnawed on our ankles.”
Professor Giles D’Farrtt, an anthropologist, had always been fascinated by the idea of pygmies. “I suppose I became fascinated with ‘little people’ when I was a child. It was right after I read ‘Gulliver’s Travels.’ The Lilliputians, who were tiny human beings, managed to capture and tie-down the human-sized Gulliver. As I grew and entered the realm of anthropology, I became aware of the discovery of short human beings called ‘pygmies’ by British explorers in the Congo.
“Over the years, the pygmy tribes were exploited by numerous white explorers, enslaved, shipped to England and America as part of freak shows, zoo shows and vaudeville. In the 1990s, they were slaughtered by the Rwandans. In the early 2000’s they were, again victimized during the Second Congo War. I thought to myself…I wonder if I could find tribes of pygmies who hadn’t been torn asunder.”
And so, after years of funding at the racetrack and Vegas poker games, D’Farrtt, embarked on another expedition, delving deeper into the Congo. “I wanted to see if there were unknown, untouched tribes.”
He encountered more than he’d ever hoped for. “We decided to go deep, deep into the Congo. Along the way, we passed by a lot of normal pygmy tribes who, frankly, had no interest in us unless we paid them money to perform made-up rituals. I mean, shuffleboard? Bingo? Balloon animals? We decided, ‘Naaah, been there, done that.’”
The pygmy pygmies are discovered!
His group plunged onward. Eventually, they discovered a cave leading out of a sinkhole. “We heard singing and dancing that was anything but African,” he recalled. “It sounded Irish and Italian. As we made our way down the cave, all noises stopped. We were hit by dozens of toothpick-sized spear that were dipped in some sort of narcotic. Eventually, we became woozy and hit the ground.
“When we awoke, we noticed we were tied down. And we were surrounded by six-inch tall people! A band of pygmy pygmies. I mean, we’re talking short here. They had large teeth. They gnawed on our ankles. It took us a while to discover that, unlike African pygmies, this tribe was Caucasian. And they all had New York accents!”
“Who da hell are yooze guys?” demanded the pygmy pygmy “king,” a scrapper named Maloney.
“I began to explain who we were and what we were trying to accomplish when he bit me in the ankle.
“Eventually, we were allowed to sit up, once we promised these new pygmies some smores.”
“Eating beetles don’t compare to scarfing down hot dogs.”
The pygmy king, Maloney, was grateful. “Ah, I miss stateside food,” he said. “But you get used to hunting and foraging. I gotta tell you, though, eating beetles don’t compare to scarfing down hot dogs.”
It turns out that these pygmies were the descendants of Americans shot down during WWII who were captured by headhunters. “Those morons tried to shrink our heads. Instead, they shrank our whole bodies. It took us a while to recover, but when we did? We kicked some serious ass.”
Maloney led the anthropologist’s team into their lair, which resembled a slice of NYC’s Hell’s Kitchen circa the 1940s. “We use solar and water energy to keep our naib going. Over the years, we’ve learned to produce and market just about everything that had been in vogue back in the day. One fat guy from France tried to capture us and he fell and busted his neck. So, we had his cell phone. That was about ten years ago. We managed to duplicate his cell phone technology on a smaller scale. And we also got hooked into the Internet. None of us old folks have a head for it but the kids? They’re into it.”
They recreated the neighborhood, which was meticulously assembled using tree bark and small bricks. “All of us originals were good with our hands. We were factory workers and did a lot of construction. Most of us old timers are still around. I don’t know what it is about being shrunken but our life expectancy seems a lot longer…unless we’re stepped on.”
The pygmy pygmies vow to stay put
Professor D’Farrtt offered to bring Maloney’s entire tribe back to the states, recreating their neighborhood in America.
Maloney demurred. “Nah. We see what’s going on in your world. You guys can’t even elect a decent president. And this virus stuff? Heck, we don’t even catch colds down here. Thanks, though.”
At that point, Professor D’Farrtt and his men packed up to return to the world outside. He shook mini-hands with Maloney. The pygmy king grinned. “Now, don’t you go telling anyone about us,” Maloney whispered. “We’ll find you and kill you in your sleep.”
D’Farrtt agreed not to and exited. He had already contacted a stateside entertainment company to deliver the little people to America.
Shortly after completing this interview with us, the professor vanished. Police found the man’s apartment completely trashed. Said a policeman at the scene, “It was nuts. There were thousands of toothpicks all over D’Farrtt bed. No D’Farrtt, though.”
D’Fartt’s entertainment partners sent out an exploration team. However, the team was bitch-slapped by baboons. The baboons forced them all to strip and to leave the forestland au natural.
The lead baboon handed them a note. In very small print, it read: “Never monkey around with New Yorkers.”
