Hello everyone, Munmun here. I know you’re all clamoring for my take on this crazy news story, so I don’t want to keep the masses waiting.

First off, I’ve seen the term ‘crisis’ thrown around. Can we not? I’m sorry, but the Peepys and Ouiouis don’t run the show. They’re gone, so what? Maybe now it’ll be time for everyone else to get some well-deserved time in the spotlight. Let’s treat this less like a ‘problem’ please.

I do want to find them, but only because they owe me money. A lot of money. And crypto. I don’t know what crypto is, but they said they’d get me some.

I think the best way to handle this is to ask ourselves why the Peepys would leave in the first place. This must have been a coordinated effort. I could believe the Ouiouis all being taken, but Peepys are capable combatants and naturally clever. It seems more likely that-

Debra just came in. She asked what I wanted for lunch. I said a grilled cheese. She said everyone was leaning TexMex. I still want a grilled cheese. Why can't I have a grilled cheese? I work for a living. She asked if I was sure, because I'd have to get it myself. Debra, you ask for my answer, then question my judgement? TexMex has beans. I don't want beans. I will not tolerate beans for the sake of your convenience.

Monkeys don't have to deal with this. They just eat banana and yell.

Now like I was saying, I think the Peepys are looking for something. If they're unseen, it's probably a heist.

My children don't talk to me.

I think if we're going to find the Peepys, someone's going to have to go undercover. If we send someone dressed like a Peepy, there's a chance that they'll get noticed and brought into the fold, then-

Debra I swear to every possible god, I do not want a quesadilla, it is not the same thing. Difficult? No, I’m not being difficult. I’m being the opposite of difficult. Do you know what I was born with? Legs, Debra. When I decide it’s lunch time, I will rise from my desk and ambulate in the direction of grilled cheese. I require neither your approval or your assistance. You are free to consume beans without me.

She’s pissed. I don’t understand this. My ability to be an adult and get my own food has become a problem. I can already tell this is going to be an entire thing. HR’s going to get involved, aren’t they? Monkeys don't have to talk to HR. If they're upset at something, they can just fling poo at it. Why can't we fling poo at our problems anymore? What have we done to ourselves?

We’ve lost our way.

I don’t know where the Peepys and Ouiouis are, but maybe they have the right idea. Maybe we should leave all this behind. We can start a new society where we jump and hang onto things all day. We don’t need spreadsheets. You can feel in your bones that we don’t need spreadsheets.

I’m going to go get a grilled cheese and climb a street light. I’m a wild animal.