One Of Those Days

Tarzan comes swinging through the jungle, his last vine dropping him with a thump on the porch of his treehouse. He pushes through the beaded curtain with a grunt, and stomps into his living room where he drops his considerable bulk into a chair that strains to hold him. Jane comes in from the kitchen to see Tarzan staring at a fixed point off in the distance. She asks demurely, "Tarzan, are you alright?"
Without breaking his gaze, Tarzan replies, "Jane fix Tarzan martini."
"But Tarzan, you don't drink."
"Jane fix martini now."
Hearing the intensity in his voice, Jane hurries back to the kitchen where she finds most of a bottle of gin, and behind a pair of coconut shell salt shakers a few drops of vermouth. She mixes the drink in a tall bamboo cup, garnishing it with a tropical flower, then hurries the concoction back to her mate.
Tarzan flicks the flower aside and tosses the drink down in one gargantuan gulp. His eyes return to the spot he was fixed on. "Jane fix Tarzan martini."
Jane starts, "But Tarzan..." She can see that her words are not being heard, so she scoops up the cup and goes back to the kitchen where she mixes him a double, this time without the garnish. When she returns, Tarzan grabs the cup and pours it down, the effect of the alcohol barely evident as he winces only slightly when the drink hits the bottom.
There is a great pause, and suddenly Tarzan's broad shoulders slump as he leans back into his chair. Now the King of the Jungle is finally at peace. Eyes closed, he gestures wildly with the cup still in his hand. "Jane?"
"Yes, Tarzan?"
"Jane?"
"Yes, Tarzan?" Jane waits for more, then asks, "Tarzan, are you alright?"
Tarzan, Lord of the Apes, sighs and leans forward to look once again out the door and into the evening sky. "Jane, is jungle out there."