A traveler was, well, traveling, one evening when he was caught by a sudden storm. He stopped at a nearby house to see if he could stay the night. "Sure," said the house's sole occupant, and he invited the man inside. "Just one condition, though, you have to promise not to touch the purple gorilla I have in my basement." "Yeah, no problem," said the traveler, and then, after a pause, "hold on, 'purple gorilla' did you say?" "Oh, yes," said the host. "I captured him when I was on safari in Fayknuzestan. I keep him in my sub-sub-sub-basement. Just through this door and down the stairs, and up the hall, and down the stairs, and up the hall, and down the stairs, and up the hall, and down the stairs, and up the hall, and through the door, in a room, lit by a single incandescent bulb, I keep my purple gorilla, in a cage. I call him Frank. Would you like to see him?" The traveler thought for a moment. Surely, his host couldn't be telling the truth? There's no such thing as a purple gorilla. Right? This has got to be a joke he plays on guests. But what if it isn't? "Sure," he said at last, "how can I miss this?" So, the host led his guest down into the sub-sub-sub-basement. They went through the door, and down the stairs, and up the hall, and down the stairs, and up the hall, and down the stairs, and up the hall, and down the stairs, and up the hall, and there, at the end of the hall, there was a door. "Now," said the host, "on the other side of this door is my purple gorilla, Frank. But remember you can look, but don't touch." He opened the door and there, in a room, lit by a single incandescent bulb, lay a gorilla, in a cage. It was very large, very hairy, and very purple. It was asleep, snoring loudly. The man was awestruck. He recalled his host's warning, even as he reached out his hand to touch the beast. He couldn't resist. He knew he shouldn't be doing it, but he just couldn't stop himself. He reached his hand out, through the bars of the cage, and just gently, ever so gently, he stroked the creature's magnificent, thick, purple fur. "Oh, not again," said the host. "I warned you!" In a flash, the beast's eyes popped open. "You'd better run, now. He won't chase you past the yard." The beast let out a mighty roar, and easily escaped his confinement. The traveler dashed through the door, the beast hot on his heels. He ran down the hall, and up the stairs, and down the hall, and up the stairs, and down the hall, and up the stairs, and down the hall, and up the stairs, and through the door, and just, as he was about to make it to the safety of the street, he lost his footing and fell, sprawling, to the ground. As he lay there on the ground he looked up to see Frank, the gorilla, looming over him. Panting, with its breath steaming in the night air, with flecks of foam at the edges of its mouth, the beast looked at him with victory in its eyes. It bent down, slowly, over him so its face was mere inches from his. And then, just as the man was preparing to meet his final moments, the creature gently tapped him on the shoulder and said "tag, you're it!"
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