The apes and other hairy primates are not all in New Hampshire today. They're here. They threaten.
Some are full-fledged war monkeys, obstructing justice, interfering with official acts, and assaulting our police officers. (A common-sense monkey-control law is needed: One stuffed monk a month; full background check; strict may-issue permit system to carry.)
Others are bigger but more benign and show human-like abilities to communicate via simple symbols and engage in rudimentary thought processes. There are nine of the them, but we can't afford that many bananas so we're looking for a good home for the two orangutans. We'll keep the bonabos.
Up until yesterday we thought there were ten in all, but close scientific examination revealed that one one had just become confused and wandered in. Researchers hosed him down, handed him a plantain, and took him back to his seat in the legislature.
Iowa official brains freeze in February and melt in July. It isn't enough to aspire to make Iowa the world center for the study of equatorial apes. We actually begged and received gazillions in federal money to create a tropical rain forest down by one of the big Corp of Engineers lakes. We gave most of it back after The Van Der Platts Peeps and other spiritual leaders learned that jungles harbor people who run around naked and don't tithe.