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It was sad when the little monkey died. But I give it two thumbs up!

Oh, yeah - I vote in favor of more filenames like "monkey_gunfight_animated.gif"

Two opposable thumbs up!

That is very cool.

Ape must not kill ape.

That's some fine animatration you got there.

Except the dead monkey part. That's not so good.

The dying monkey is wearing what appears to be a sombrero, hence he is mono con un arma. Sounds like a damn Narcocorrido:

mono con un arma
él era un mal asno
pero un día él resolvió su fósforo
ahora que él está arrojando mierda en cielo

etiquetas pinche del HTML!

Must give credit where credit is due, that site, yes that one, The One That Shall Not Be Named.

But Why? Why? Why must the monkey die? Die? Die?

And over and over again! Ay, mierda en cielo (indeedly-doodly, MC Juanito), where oh where does the killing stop?

Maybe it's a cap gun, and the silly monkey is so excited that he mocks death?

Although it is cool, I hope it doesn't influence young monkeys to go out and try this with their friends.

I laughed, I cried, it was better than 'Cats'. I want to see it again and again.

That second monkey totally deserved it. Did you see how slow he was on the draw? And what's up with that hat?

Still, I wept.

A-plus. Reminiscent of early John Ford, with a touch of pathos a la Gary Cooper - nay, more like a later John Wayne, displaying the melancholy inherent to the hat-tippin', "ma'am"-callin' world of the kick-ass gunslinger.

*Disclaimer: I don't know dick about the three above-mentioned fine gentleman except a few tiny morsels retained from a film class like ten years ago

You make the baby monkey jesus sad with your lack of film knowledge.

*cries*

*flings poo*

Nobody knew where he came from
They only knew he came in
Slowly he walked to the end of the bar
And he ordered up one slug of gin.

Well, I could see that he wasn't a large ape
I could tell that he wasn't too tall
I judged him to be 'bout five-foot three
And his voice was a soft Texas drawl.

Said he was needin' some wages
'Fore he could ride for the west
Said he could do most all kind of work
Said he could ride with the best.

There in his blue eyes was sadness
That comes from the need of a friend
And tho' he tried, he still couldn't hide
The loneliness there, deep within.

Said he would work thru the winter
For thirty a month and his board
I started to say where he might land a job
When a fellow came in thru the door.

And I could tell he was lookin' for trouble
From the way that he came stompin' in
He told me to leave Shorty there by himself
Come down and wait on a ape.

The eyes of the little ape narrowed
The smile disappeared from his face
Gone was the friendliness that I had seen
And a wild look of hate took its' place.

But the big one continued to mock him
And he told me that I'd better go
Find him a couple of glasses of milk
Then maybe Shorty would grow.

When the little ape spoke, there was stillness
He made sure that everyone heard
Slowly he stepped away from the bar
And I still remember these words.

Oh! it's plain that you're lookin' for trouble
Trouble's what I try to shun
If that's what you want, then that's what you'll get
'Cause cowboy, we're both packin' guns.

His hand was already positioned
Feet wide apart on the floor
I hadn't noticed but there on his hip
Was a short-barreled Bass Forty-Four.

It was plain he was ready and waitin'
He leaned a bit forward and said
When you call me Shorty, say Mister, my friend
Maybe you'd rather be dead.

In the room was a terrible silence
As the big one stepped out on the floor
All drinkin' stopped and the tick of the clock
Said death would wait ten seconds more.

He cussed once or twice in a whisper
And he said with a snarl on his lips
Nobody's Mister to me, little ape!
And he grabbed for the gun on his hips.

But the little ape's hands was like lightning
The Bass Forty-Four was the same
The Forty-Four spoke and it sent lead and smoke
And seventeen inches of flame.

For the big one had never cleared leather
Beaten before he could start
A little round hole had appeared on his shirt
The bullet went clear thru his heart.

The little ape stood there a moment
Then holstered the Bass Forty-Four
It's always this way so I never stay
Slowly he walked out the door.

Nobody knew where he came from
They won't forget he came by
They won't forget how a Forty-Four gun
One night made the difference in size.

As for me, I'll remember the sadness
Shown in the eyes of the ape
If we meet someday, you can bet I would say
That it's me, Mr. Shorty, your friend.

-Marty Robbins

You make the baby monkey jesus sad with your lack of film knowledge

It's not that, it's just that westerns (except for the biggies, e.g. Stagecoach, High Noon) never really caught my fancy. So my frame of reference is rather limited; hence the disclaimer.

*Cooing baby-soothing voice*

"There, all better? We're not going to smite auntie boomchicka to a fiery afterlife, are we? Who's a good baby monkey jesus?"

"Come baaaack, Shaaaaane!"

The monkey died?

that's not like saying the rabbit died, right?

Or, if you're watching Batman... Shame...

This monkey's gooooooooone to heaven....

So if the Devil is six, then God is seven?

THEN GOD IS SEVEN!

*sings*
this monkey's goooooone to heaven...

But who's eight? Somebody's got to be eight.

Since man is five, the devil is six and God is seven, eight must be something really interesting.

8 is a snowman having been tortured smooth and featureless during an interrogation with a power sander.

I know. I was disappointed, too, but it's right there in The Bible, in between to "five ways to satuee a dolphin" and "someone better make Charlton Heston shut up or I will."

And the ants go maaaarrrrching eight by eight, hurrah, hurrah!

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