King Kong is the king of the apes. There's none greater, and I defy anyone to prove me wrong. Go on, who else is there? Mighty Joe Young? Gimme a break.

King Kong embodies everything apedom has strived for over the centuries: bigness, fists like wrecking balls and ferocious incisor teeth.

Kong has always held a special place in my heart where fear trembles and my soul cowers like a child. When other kids were idolizing football players and other stupid human men who caught balls then kicked them, I was worshiping anxiously at the altar of King Kong, a massive ape that caught throats then crushed them. I prayed to him every night, pleading with him not to come kill me. Which is why it is so difficult to admit that in the end, he’ll be the one that leads us to the brink of annihilation. My prayers will have fallen on deaf ape-ears. Maybe I should have been praying to him in language he could understand.

Two of the greatest fears I have in life are of ball pits (I saw a guy take a dump in one once and have never gotten over it) and the advent of a real-life Planet of the Apes scenario. “But that'll never happen!” you say. “Now that we've been warned about the dangers that monkeykind pose to our way of life, we'll avoid it by destroying their natural habitats and throwing them in prisons to laugh and throw nuts at.”

The apes of today will raise Kong up as their deity, turn his actions into meaningful stories and propaganda that they will use against us.

Well I bet you wouldn't have thought it possible for a grown man in an ape costume to squat in an ankle-deep ball pit at a kid's theme restaurant to relieve himself, but here we find ourselves: scarred, broken, living in a world where absolutely anything is possible.

But if the real-life Planet of the Apes is going to happen like I hypothesize, how will all these animals band together to fight us when there are so many warring factions in the ape, monkey, and big-assed primate kingdom?

The answer: King Kong. He will unite them under one banner, from the smallest spider monkey to the second-biggest gorilla (King Kong being the biggest).

Everyone knows that King Kong is fairly popular with humans, but what they don't know is that he has a tremendous following in the ape-world. Apes look up to him the way children look up to Superman or bats look up to Batman. It's one thing most species can agree upon: we just love big muscly guys!

I fear that the apes of today will raise Kong up as their deity, turn his actions into meaningful stories and propaganda that they will use against us. And if you don't believe me, hey, it's your ass they'll be whipping and throwing in a cage to rot. Mine too, but at least I'll be able to smile smugly at you through the bars while my bare-ass is whipped raw.

I believe the resentment the apes have for us all started when we accidentally kinda murdered King Kong, and that resentment continues to grow with every little butler costume we deck them out with. They really can't take a joke, I've found. Unless it was that one time in Thailand when I slipped over and all those monkeys pointed at me and laughed. That should give you an indication of just how cruel they can be.

Apes have always shown deference to larger apes in their group, especially if they're 100-foot-tall leviathans that are pants-shittingly terrifying, so it makes sense why King Kong might be seen as a natural spiritual leader among them.

Though King Kong never learned to speak, from his actions his message was clear: “Outta my way, I'm gonna climb this here building.” The apes will almost certainly take this noble message and twist it to suit their own purposes, I'm sure.

It is wrong to assume that King Kong is just the king of the apes. In truth, he's king of everything. I mean, he's massive! He killed dinosaurs, for god's sake. Remember how hard they used to be to kill? I bet he tamed them for fun and rode on their backs, hooting an ape-version of “yippee-kai-ay” while steering them around a clearing to break their saurian spirits. If only there was a cowboy hat large and majestic enough to fit on that gargantuan head, he'd be honorary king of the cowboys too, I'm sure.

Though King Kong sits on the throne at the top of the animal kingdom, monkeys believe they are the only ones who truly understand his plight: to find the biggest banana possible. But the true tragedy of it all is that he will never find one big enough. There will always be that elusive bigger banana out there, waiting to be picked and consumed before it goes all brown and soft. Us humans collectively tell a similar story of desire and dissatisfaction, also about bananas.

King Kong really is a monster. This isn't just hyperbole. He does in fact meet and exceed all criteria on Maslow's Monster Requirement Chart.

Kong is a force of nature, and also an element. There is earth, wind, fire, water, and Kong. His really should have been the fifth ring on Captain Planet. Pfft, heart?! Heart’s not an element, unless it’s a Kong-heart, that is.

When the apes do descend from the mountains, break free from their enclosures or take off their little butler costumes, they will do so in the knowledge that their god Kong will watch over and protect them in their oncoming fight. Also they know that they're much more physically strong than humans and could maim us real easy. But it'll be their faith that breaks our spines more than their vice-like grip.

Of course, there will be some apes who call King Kong a false prophet, and say that he was just a story and probably wasn't even that big. But as long as those apes aren't a group of silverback gorillas, they'll be rended limb from limb for such blasphemy by pious and devout silverbacks.

The king of the apes didn't ask to be born into royalty from a womb that must have been frighteningly large in scale. But he took his duties seriously and toured the world until he was assassinated by a couple of bi-planes. Someone spuriously said that it was beauty killed the beast, but it was definitely bi-planes.

If the parallels between Kong and Jesus weren't already palpable enough, they also both died on a Friday (spooky, I know!).

Though the Planet of the Apes is still a ways off, I must admit I am looking forward to humans wearing a lot less, if you know what I mean. Also apes riding horses is going to be a bizarre and surreal experience to see outside of a Japanese game show/inside of a dung-filled cage.

In the past when I’ve told people my theory they all ask me two things: Who are you and why do you think this could possibly happen? and I have an answer for neither. It's just a feeling deep inside. You know that sensation you sometimes feel of someone walking over your grave? Well, it's just like that only it’s the feeling of a goddamn giant gorilla bearing down on your grave and stomping it to smithereens.

Though King Kong will be largely responsible for the uprising, the Planet of the Apes will not be possible without the good, persistent murder perpetrated by honest, hardworking apes the world over, who will take to the trees and out-fight us on every front until our collective gooses are cooked. My only hope is that it's a fair fight, with as little feces-slinging as possible. Though I cannot promise that I won’t resort to feces-slinging should my back be up against a wall.

It's hard to know whether King Kong would have wanted this war to occur. Maybe he would have preached peace and understanding? Or maybe he would have turned to the other apes and raised his eyebrows as if to say “Watch this” and then started smashing up the city. I guess I'm kinda glad he's dead and not able to be used as a weapon of mass destruction. Unless of course he was on our side, then I'd make some popcorn, sit back and watch the monkey killing begin.

For me the worst moment is going to be when they tear down the Statue of Liberty. I went there once and have a special attachment to it. I spat off the spiky crown part and wrote my name in Sharpie on one of the inner walls when the guide wasn't looking. But my vandalism will be long gone by then, lost like ape tears in the jungle rain.