The 5 prim(ate) suspects responsible for Liverpool’s monkeypox epidemic
Monkeypox is swarming all over Liverpool, with the disease linked to locals visibly scratching their bums and sniffing their fingers in public on Merseyrail services, and people throwing faeces around the city centre (onset after 15 pints in McCooley’s).
Where’s it come from though? Boffins are baffled. The only reasonable conclusion that we can come to is that the virus was spread by a filthy knuckle-dragging ape; a lone agent intent on spreading their grubby germs throughout Merseyside.
So, who was the commander-in-chimp who could have unleashed such a dastardly plot? PortHub’s roving reporters took to the vines to swing through every jungle and zoo on the planet before drawing up a list of five simian suspects, including:
Michael Jackson’s nappy-wearing chimp chum, Bubbles has been consistently spotted frequenting the wrong side of the tracks since his mentor’s passing according to our sources in Hollywood.
That desolation, many believe, has turned Bubbles into a Smooth Criminal who is desperate to Heal the World in his own way; by being Bad and making scousers Remember the Time they had itchy welts all over their ringpieces by releasing an aggressive strain of monkeypox into the River Mersey.
Verdict: When approached, Bubbles made a chimp-like Scream and gestured for us to Leave me Alone while cuddling a zoo-made golden effigy of Michael. Bubbles seems to be more lashing out at losing the King of Pop rather than becoming the King of Pox.
Swoon! Western lowland Shabani has made many a knicker drop in Japan, where crowds of adoring fans flock to catch a glimpse of the handsome brute. Is the ‘ikemen’ really capable of gorilla warfare, though?
The heartthrob is certainly strong and agile enough to pull off a monkeypox epidemic across L1; perhaps the hairy hunk has a darker side away from the cameras, building up an adoring fanbase in the public eye so no reasonable person could suspect his capability for chemical atrocities.
Verdict: During our quizzing at his Nagoya home, Shabani came across as more slob than Slobodan. Unrecognisable from his public portrayal, the only chemical weapons we smelled came out of Shabani’s lower back as he slumped on his couch watching the footy, grunting and farting as a bevvy of beauties waited on him hand and foot-hand.
Feeling at an Every Which Way but Loose end, our investigative team eventually heard about a shifty-looking orangutan residing in L.A.
Drinking heavily in bars, sticking his middle finger up at traffic, punching people from the safety of his car… Clyde would have fit like a glove in Liverpool, and would have gone about virtually unnoticed as he made his move, feeling lucky and making his day as he spread his filthy virus.
Verdict: Our interrogation of Clyde wasn’t the most successful. On hearing our accusations, Clyde gave us five of the best when we openly accused him of spreading his mucky disease in Concert Square. When we came to though, we realised there had been a mix up; rather than Clyde, we’d accused a large, hairy ginger tradesman who had clocked off for the weekend.
We heard through the ape vine that something was eating Koko. Once regarded as one of the most intelligent animals on the planet, Koko gained fame throughout her life for mastering sign language.
But, according to those close to Koko, she hadn’t said a word since June. Some pointed to her untimely death as a factor but, on a hunch, we spent 98% of the news desk’s annual budget to send our reporters and representatives to California to see what was keeping Koko so quiet.
Verdict: We couldn’t find Koko, not even when going into half of next year’s news budget to conduct a thorough and lengthy search of the Santa Cruz Mountains. Certainly not the actions of an innocent ape…
Born the wrong side of the M62 in Manchester and lead singer of the Monkees, Jones’s protestations that It Ain’t Me Babe stretch his credibility a little too thinly.
Rock and roll stars used to trash hotel rooms and throw televisions from the window. It seems now, though, that the only way for the rich and famous to enjoy some Good Clean Fun is to get their rocks off by spread a debilitating virus partly related to the name of your band across Merseyside.
Verdict: Jones can’t escape the facts and looks as guilty as sin. If you find yourself trying to open bananas with your feet or are beginning to resemble Ian Brown, your best course of action may be to send the Daydream Believer’s estate your medical bills and a strongly-worded letter of complaint.