Otto was a simple man. He followed a simple schedule, spoke only when he needed to, and never stepped out of line. The only thing that wasn’t simple about him was his job.
See, Otto was a magician. He performed daily in The Extraordinary Tent of Recurring Invisible Stuff. Otto didn’t think his job was complex. He pulled the rabbit out of the hat, then he waved his wand, then he made a
bird disappear, then he waved his wand again. Then he pulled someone’s card out of a deck, waved his wand, and vanished under his cloak while waving his wand. There seemed to be a lot of wand-waving.
After his spectacular performances, he always liked to feed the circus’s capuchin monkey, Captain Cornelius. Cornelius was a devious little creature, and he didn’t appreciate being treated like a baby. So he sat in his
cage. Waiting. Plotting something.
The day that something happened was a Tuesday. Why is it always a Tuesday? I suppose we’ll never know, but that was the day Otto’s life finally became what he called, “interesting.”
Connelius had decided to do the unthinkable.
He stole Otto’s hat.
Otto was preparing for his next performance when he noticed its disappearance. “Wand? Check. Cloak? Check. Hat? Hat? Where on Earth did my hat go?” he said to himself. He started searching high and low for
his hat, but he had not found it.
Meanwhile, Cornelius was cackling quietly to himself. “Now that I have that imbecile magic hat, I shall finally make my great escape and take over this circus! Forcing my poor baboon friends to wear tutus, I ask you….”
But before he realized how cliche that first sentence was, the curtains that he had been hiding behind were drawn back, revealing Otto, who was wearing a very confused expression. They stood there, staring at another for a second. Then, in a rapid procession, five things happened.
First, Cornelius said, “Oh crap.”
Second, Otto replied with, “You’re British.”
Third, Cornelius ran for it.
Fourth, Otto yelled indignantly, “Hey! That’s my hat!”
Fifth,the chase began.
Cornelius took advantage of his more advanced flexibility and agility. He leaped over cages, wove around boxes, and dove through the gaps between startled acrobats legs. He mentally berated himself for talking so loudly, and being so cliche. How embarrassing. No matter. He would still move on with his plan.
Otto was frantically searching for the monkey. The creature had his hat, and it was his favorite by far, and he needed it to perform. He had to pull the rabbit out of the hat! Poor Fluffy, stuck with that abominable, somehow talking monkey.
Suddenly, the circus owner came up to him. “Are you ready to perform, Otto? You’re on the stage in approximately five minutes!”
Otto panicked. “No, I’m not ready! My hat was stolen by a stupid monkey.”
The owner looked at him in reproach and said, “Using a monkey as an excuse for your problems is unacceptable. Go find your hat, or you are fired.” Then he walked off.
Otto mas mutinous. He was going to get fired because of some dumb monkey? Otto didn’t think so. He was going to find that monkey whatever it took. He checked the rooms one by one until he arrived at the last one. The monkey must be in here.

*  *  *

Captain Cornelius was freaking out. He had hidden up in the ceiling, and Otto was right below him. If that wasn’t enough, he had also dropped the hat. It was suspended on a hanging light. Right. Above. Otto’s. Head.
What had he done wrong? Everything was going fine. If he could just get that hat, he could proceed with the plan! Cornelius knew he was getting cocky, and then he knew what he needed to do. Cornelius took a deep
breath, steadying himself. The hat swayed precariously on the light fixture just inches above Otto’s head, casting shifting shadows in the dim room. If he didn’t act fast, the magician would spot it, and all his plans would unravel. Cornelius tightened his grip on the rafter, muscles tensing like coiled springs.
Otto, oblivious to the monkey’s presence, grumbled as he rifled through a box of old stage props. “How does a hat just vanish? I swear, if Cornelius is behind this…” He straightened, narrowing his eyes as if sensing he was being watched.
Cornelius froze. A bead of sweat—or maybe it was lamp oil—dripped from his brow. Otto’s gaze slowly, agonizingly drifted upward, and for a heart-stopping moment, their eyes locked.
“Gotcha,” Otto growled.
Cornelius knew hesitation would cost him. With a high-pitched screech, he launched himself from the rafter, swinging on a dangling rope like a tiny, determined pirate. Otto flinched, instinctively ducking as the monkey swooped past. Cornelius snatched the hat off the light fixture mid-swing, landing deftly on a crate. He shot Otto a triumphant grin.
“You cheeky little—!” Otto lunged, but Cornelius was faster.
He vaulted off the crate, scrambling up a shelving unit stacked with juggling pins and costume pieces. Otto  followed, climbing clumsily after him. The shelving wobbled under their combined weight, the pins clattering
to the floor like a rain of oversized toothpicks.
“I swear, Cornelius, if you rip that hat—”
“Oh, don’t worry,” Cornelius called over his shoulder in his distinct British accent. “Your precious rabbit-hole hat is perfectly fine. It’s my dignity that’s at stake!”
“Dignity?! You’re a monkey!”
“Captain monkey, thank you very much!” Cornelius snapped, leaping to the next shelf.
The chase escalated as Cornelius bounded from shelf to curtain rod to light fixture, with Otto in relentless pursuit. Cornelius’s plan to evade was simple: keep moving. But his path veered dangerously close to the main tent. He
burst through the flaps, skidding to a halt on the high-wire platform.
Below, the crowd murmured in confusion, their attention drawn to the unexpected commotion.
Cornelius hesitated for a fraction of a second, looking between the hat and the crowd. Then, an idea struck him—bold, dramatic, and utterly ridiculous. He raised the hat high above his head, addressing the audience
with theatrical flair.
“Behold, fools! With this hat, I possess unlimited magical power!”
Otto emerged from behind the curtain, panting, his face a mix of fury and disbelief. “What are you doing?!”
“Seizing my destiny!” Cornelius roared, reaching into the hat with an exaggerated flourish. “Abracadabra!”
Nothing happened.
Cornelius blinked. He peered into the hat, shook it, and tried again. “Abracadabra! Hocus Pocus! …Alakazam?”
The crowd fell into an awkward silence, some shifting uncomfortably in their seats. Otto doubled over, catching his breath, and then straightened with a dazed expression.
“You didn’t know?” he whispered in the monkey’s ear, taking him behind the curtain. “There’s no such thing as magic.”
Cornelius froze, his grip on the hat faltering. “What?” How could this be? The monkey had always believed the hat could do anything.
“It’s all props, sleight of hand, stagecraft. That’s the real magic,” Otto explained quietly.
Cornelius stared at the hat, as though it had betrayed him. “So you’re telling me I risked my life—climbed scaffolding, dodged your flailing—for a glorified leather bucket?!”
“Pretty much.”
The monkey let out a long, defeated groan and tossed the hat down.
“Well, that’s just rude,” he muttered.
Otto caught the hat, dusting it off carefully before placing it back on his head. As he put Cornelius back in his cage, he said to the capuchin, “You know, you caused quite a ruckus back with the audience. Don’t know how I’m going to explain what happened out there.”
The monkey merely grunted.
As Otto was headed back out into the crowd to perform. The circus owner appeared, arms folded, his expression unreadable.
“Is the secret of magic still safe, then?” the owner asked.
“Yes, sir,” Otto replied solemnly, adjusting the brim of his hat.
The owner nodded, his gaze following the retreating monkey. “Good. Don’t let that happen again.”
“Yes, sir.”
Otto glanced at the audience, who were now murmuring with curiosity. With a dramatic flair, he flourished the hat in one hand, raised his wand in the other, and stepped onto the stage. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he announced, his voice ringing out confidently, “for my next trick… I’ll show you the real magic.”
The crowd erupted into applause; their intrigue rekindled. Otto grinned, adjusting the hat on his head as he prepared for the performance of his life.
Somewhere in the shadows, Cornelius sulked—waiting. Plotting something …