Monkey

If a great town was known for its sound, would the ruhing heebeejeebies come and steal whatever little fruit from the town orchards. A ponderous question it is, and one that deserves as little attention as can be given it. On the other hand was a monkey who hated mistakes. His was a hard life, trying to be perfect and hustling the right people to better his lot in the order of things. Not that he really objected to any objectification that came his way. After all, it got him grants and entry to select parties where he could avoid making mistakes and wear a beard just to be sure. One day he decided to go abroad to better his lot and lay the foundation for future wealth. Who wouldn't want a little bit of money for a tail comb. So he wrote books of fantasy and gave exams in a/c trees. Alcohol he touched but only so.
In the red corner was the marmeluke counterpart of the Syrian flagstaff who said he came from a house of infidels that did not know. But then if your lot is to be stuck on mountain peaks with the best of them, then you might pine for donkey's tails.
Cheerio and good luck.