If someone puts or throws a wrench, or monkey wrench, in the works, they ruin a plan. In British English, 'spanner' is used instead of 'wrench'.
Open the boot of your automobile, and an infinite number of monkeys with spanners jump out. They race to keyboards, but instead of typing the complete works of Shakespeare, they type the perfect resume. Then they throw the spanners into the monitors and urinate on the keyboards. Repeatedly. As in an infinite number of times. No flushing. No washing hands.
Sigh. Monkeys are not the solution to my problems. The big red tool box is a jumble of wrenches with names I never remember. Who is Allen anyway? Which wrench did Colonel Mustard use in the study? I need to dismantle the broken computer stand enough so the monkeys can heave the parts into the dumpster. Faux wood laminate on "engineered wood" assembled by single mom and sons at least fifteen years ago held up surprisingly well. It held monitors as big as microwave ovens, and looked down on numerous mice. For years it stood in the dining area wary of attack by burger grease or Dr. P. The sliding keyboard shelf had been caddywhompus for many years before it finally went all crackerdog flop-bot this week. The monkeys and I will be attacking the computer desk with the hex wrench in the conservatory.