When we last left Celestina Czermosnki, she was kidnapped by mysterious men clad in black. It may come as no surprise her situation is no better. Stuffed in a large sack, driven to an airfield, flown to a mysterious island and carried deep into bowels of a cave, where she was finally placed in a cage. At least she was out of the bag, which smelled of deceased bananas and unhygienic feet. One look at her current situation made her rethink the bag.
She was on a raised platform overlooking a den/bachelor pad that was built into the cave. A bookshelf full of bananas adorned the opposite wall, and a red and black checkered rug ran the length of the floor. To her right was a large monitor, a leather chair facing it. The chair’s back was to her. She couldn’t see the chair’s occupant, but she could tell he was there before he spoke.
“Miss Pretty Girl happy with new home?” the stranger asked in a gruff voice. “Miss Pretty Girl need anything, just ask and Grong get. Grong not want Miss Pretty Girl unhappy.”
“Wha-who are you? Why did you bring me here?” Celestina asked. She was afraid the strange man was going to ask her to teach him how to speak properly, something she herself struggled with.
“Me long time search for perfect Pretty Girl. Grong very lonely. Very rich, very powerful and yet very lonely. No worry, Grong see irony. So me search for perfect Pretty Girl to be me bride, and when me find video of you dancing, like itty-bitty pretty girl in music box, me know it fate bring us together. Fate and me henchmen.”
“But…Grong, is it? I’m not looking for commitment. A dancer’s life is full of travel, dedication to your craft and all that other junk. I can’t promise to be a good partner to anyone, let alone a strange man who stuffs me in a sack and flies me to some mysterious island, locks me in a cage. I mean, I know it’s the fairy tale dream come true, but I’ll have to decline your generous offer of captivity.” Grong grunted angrily.
“Now, now, it’s okay, Grong, there’s plenty other fish in the, you know, water.”
“Grong no want fish.” Grong swiveled in his chair. “Grong want Pretty Girl. Wait. Where Pretty Girl?”
“Swivel to your left. No, sorry, my left. There you g-” Celestina Czermonski’s thought was left unfinished, replaced by a scream that curdled her blood and the block of mozzarella cheese Grong was saving in the fridge. Grong, as you have already guessed, but it news to Celestina, is an 800 pound gorilla. In a smoking jacket, no less. But rather than smoke, he was eating a banana. Because he’s a gorilla. Oh, and an evil gorilla, what with the kidnapping.
NEXT: Our heroes collide!