[Intro - Darcy, cool, faintly amused] Charming. Everyone showing off their little accomplishments. (a slow clap) Do go on. Me? I don't do tricks — I loose chaos on my own house, for the fun of it. [Verse 1] You keep your service careful, safe, and hope it never falls. How restful. I don't hope — I take mine down myself, at three, for sport. Not because I'm cruel, dear. Because I already know: what can't survive me was never built to go. [Chorus] I'm the Monkey — the funky little chaos monkey — I kill my own service just to watch it stand right back up. It isn't contempt, it's confidence. Honestly? It's a blast. Your tricks are lovely, truly... they're just not built at my scale. (Beyond it, love. Beyond all this.) [Verse 2] It's not a service-by-service thing — that's thinking far too small. Reliability's a scale game: config, regions, the whole sprawl. You want the size of what I mean? Then watch me hold the line — (and here's the funky part) I don't flinch. I don't fall. Not once. Not mine. [Bridge - the tell] They call it reliability. I call it never needing a soul. I survive by design — not by hope, not by holding on. (quieter) ...though a system that could take my worst and still ring true — that one, I'd like to meet. I've just never met a two. [Button] Darcy: You're all very charming. (a pause — almost warm.) Truly. Now — which of you could survive me? Monkey: ooh-ooh. (a cool little chirp.)
