Now just a minute here. Yooooou cannot … keep this up. With all the buzzin’‚ and zoomin’‚ around—and it’s coming this way and goin’‚ that way, all you aeroplanes with the rat-tat-tatting and the zippin’‚ by my head, just making me angry. I. Am King Kong, you understand? I am not the target for you to hit and knock off this building with your pitiful little bullets. Do not make me … angry. Do you understand me when I tell you that I will not stand for it? Thiiiissss is where I put my foot down, you see? IIIIIIIIIIII am from a place called Skull Island. Now. I was brought here from my home, Skull Island, on a boat without my consent. Fifteeeeeeeen thousand hours. On a tiny boat from my home—Skull. Island—to this city called New York. Was … the boat ride nice? No. This was a boat that was far too small for a creature my size, you understand. IIIIIIIIf you put. A creature my size on a boat that size, there is going to be a problem. And the waves are crashing: ka-sploosha, ka-sploosha, ka-sploosha. And we’re teetering back and forth: ka-reeeeeek, ka-reeeek, ka-reeeek. And the waves are coming now and they’re splashing: ka-sploosha, ka-sploosha … ka-reeeek, ka-reeeek, ka-sploosha, ka-sploosha. Now. You tell me. Am I going to enjoy that? How can I arrive in New York City happy after that? And let me just clarify for a moment: IIIIIIIIIII am not mad. IIIIIIII am angry. There’s a difference, you see. Dogs get mad. Sophisticated, educated giant gorillas like myself get angry. So when I sit here up on this building with this lovely lady, I want to be left alone. We. Want to be left alone. Now. Do I. Make myself clear?
McSweeney's Quarterly Subscriptions
A nine-time finalist and three-time winner of the National Magazine Award for Fiction. Subscribe to McSweeney’s Quarterly today. Use the code TENDENCY at checkout for $5 off.