Yesterday, while I was working diligently at performing minor miracles as is my habit, and as is herewith depicted, I was startled by a dreadful cry of 'Argharghargharrrrghhh'. Issuing from the direction of the boss' house.
'He's hurt himself! Something terrible is happening! Disaster! Flood! Fire!' thought I, and I was up in a flash and dashing to avert, alleviate or admire (whichever would be appropriate) the carnage.
On reaching a suitable vantage, I was more horrified than ever. 'He's finally lost it! Executive stress has never been this bad! We're going to need elephant tranquilizer'! There was my boss, running around the garden roaring and waving a long stick with which he hit the roof of the house with great energy. Bang! Thump! Aaarggggh! While chipped paint rained down from the gutters like dandruff.
An audience gathered, poised to flee lest his insanity should extend to hitting people with the long stick. He tore around the side of the house yelling and emerged again, grinning.
'Baboons! They were in the kitchen eating fruit.' He explained as soon as he had got his breath back.
The whole performance had been in the nature of declaring his supremacy over his territory in a way these primates would understand, and sure enough, there they were, loping towards the garden wall and disappearing over it with alacrity.
He says he scared them by persuading them that he was the alpha baboon, but maybe they, like us, had merely thought him crazy. Whatever it was, they haven't been back despite the lure of the fruit bowl.