Shock the Monkey: The obligatory exotic pet anecdote

“Hey look -- that guy over there has a pet _______ (fill in name of current exotic pet species du jour).”
“Hmm. That reminds me of this story...”

It is an early eve in an otherwise empty, quiet pub when who walks in but good old Mike D., already half-sloshed before sundown. The usual barstool banter commences with jokes, stories and hearty laughs between the few in attendance.
The door opens and in walks a lone university girl, apparently waiting for her friends to arrive. Perched on her shoulder is what appears to be a small spider monkey.
Plastered three sheets to the wind, Mike’s eyes light up. [A drunk and a monkey. You can see where this is heading.]
Mike saunters over to the young lady and inquires about the pet, craning his neck trying to catch the little fellow’s eye. Quite happy to be showered with attention, she obliges, beaming with self-satisfaction.
[Aside: Here the reader will see the story’s subtext -- exotic pet as conversation piece for attention whores, and the consequences thereof.]
Mike, who could change from charmingly tipsy to a slurring pervert in zero seconds flat, proceeded to make lewd comments and puns to the woman about “what she does with her monkey.” (These comments are best left up to the reader’s imagination.) Disgusted by the wisecracks as any young woman would be, she spun about face to instead turn her attention to the TV above the bar. Her back was to Mike, but the beast on her shoulder was now looking him straight in the face. Bad move.
“Hey lil’ fella, hey there... hey, how are you? Hey...” Mike continued to interrogate the primate, waving his hand at it, peering into its face, provoking it more and more.
The reaction of the monkey (or that of any primate, including man) was perfectly understandable: Agitation.
And when agitated, what do monkeys excel at?
Defecation.
Unfortunately, this little bugger’s nappies were secured quite loosely, and what began as a few spattered rivulets soon turned into a chocolate cascade down the woman’s back. (Why, oh why did she choose to wear a plain white T-shirt tonight?)
Jaws dropped and the roar of guffaws echoed throughout the pub. Of course, this was the perfect time for her friends to walk in the door. Everyone was beet-red with laughter yet this woman was still unaware until her friends rushed up to notify her of the fecal Niagara she was host to. Embarrassed blushes between them all and before you know it, all were scurrying out of the pub, monkey in tow.

Whereas the obvious lesson learned in this little tale is “beware of the attention you seek,” one has to feel bad for the monkey. Does he have dignity? Perhaps one day, an advanced alien civilisation will make us crap our collective drawers. Wouldn’t that be some karmically funny sh*t? Guess we’ll see.