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Repressed Instincts

We open in the Sanctuary, in a dim hall lit with candles. Photos are hanging above of different animals, with a name above: Hall of Remembrance. We find the Yellow Python standing in front of a picture of a chimpanzee, looking at it. He speaks, not tearing his gaze away from the picture. 

“His name was Larry. He was an outreach animal, one that went and interacted with people. He could do all sorts of things, and the crowds just ate it all up. He had a whole line of acts that he could follow, going this way and back, neat tricks. Hell, he was almost a person with how he could act.”

He picks up the picture, staring at it a bit longer.

“But that’s the thing. No matter how much we wanted Larry to be a cute, funny ape, he was still something wild. Not a pet, but a beast. With the conformities of the shows, we put pressure onto something that couldn’t hold onto it. It built and built and built up.”

“Until it blew up in our faces. And a lady lost hers. A trainer, someone we all thought was closest to Larry, betrayed by his primal instincts and suffered the cost.”

He puts the picture back on the wall, turning to face us. 

“It’s been really hard, hasn’t it Tucker? You’ve been a busy man of course. With how much abstinence and the sanctity of marriage you preach, the weight of the others always on you. It’s surprising how quickly that pressure just continues to add on.”

“You needed release, an escape from the life that’s entrapped you. Even Valerie couldn’t provide what you wanted. So the good and abstinent Tucker Goode snuck away, arriving in the New Red Light District, and found a place to release that pressure. All over his face. And his back. Probably in his ass too.”

“Look, I get it. Ain’t no shame in exploring and finding new avenues. But when that beast got shown, you tried to lock him up again. You try to hold it in again, cover it up with pamphlets. But we see the red on your face, the sheepishness. You can’t just undo it anymore.”

“We all know what kind of a beast you are.”“See though, that’s the real difference between you and I. You’re ashamed of what you are, what you’ve done. A repressed and tied down beast can only lash out with a fury it can’t control.”

“But I know what I am. I embrace the viper fully, and function perfectly with the instincts inside. I don’t misjudge, or hesitate on old and antiquated rules. Out in the wild, instincts keep you alive. A hesitant snake is a dead snake.  In the ring, you have to listen to them, or get laid out on your ass. ”

“Otherwise, you’re just put down like the repressed little creature you are.”

The Yellow Python leaves, the camera focusing on the photo of Larry as it fades to black. 

The Yellow Python