Rumors spread, as rumors tend to do, that Monty had been brainwashed. His paranoia had come to a head the night of the wedding, and from then on he had calmed down considerably, to the extent that five years later he was considered "mildly eccentric" instead of "totally, completely, and irretrevably bonkers." Monty didn't remember any brainwashing, but some small voice inside him reminded him that that was the way brainwashing worked. He brushed it aside; brainwashed or not, he was happy, and that was what mattered.
He had spent the remainder of his vacation convincing Naomi to let him join the Huskies--no easy feat in itself. But in spite--or perhaps because--of his madness, Monty was a clever, resourceful individual, and he had the added advantage of knowing the park like the back of his paw. Monty proved to be a valuable addition to the Husky team, but once his contract was up, he left the park (as a human), confidant that The Management was not up to anything especially interesting.
After his time in the park, Monty decided to put his talents for insanity to good use, and became a writer. He settled down to the extent that anyone like Monty ever could settle down, and even started going on dates that didn't end with accusing the other person of being sent by the government.
The sun set on Jeremy and Leticia's fifth anniversary. Monty's Jeep, laden with maps, manuscripts, and fast food wrappers, rolled down an unmarked desert road. Despite his relative normality, Monty could never have resisted this. Word had gotten to him from one of his old friends from Anthro Park, and he set off as soon as he could: something had happened in Roswell.
It was a storm. A perfectly normal, natural occurence. Storms happen all the time, all over the world. But this particular one had unearthed something--"something" was all the e-mail said. Whatever it was, Monty had to see for himself.
The car came to a stop near a small depression in the landscape, and Monty hopped out, eagerly. There it was: the holy grail of conspiracy theorists. It was smaller than he had expected, maybe about the size of his jeep, but it was unmistakeable. Monty had found a flying saucer. He didn't have time to reflect on this, though. As soon as he approached, the object began to emit an otherworldly hum. A hatch began to slowly open, emitting an eerie blue light. "Well," thought Monty, "looks like I was right after all."