One of the psychiatrists that I work with was apparently renting an apartment that was attached to the house I grew up in. He had been doing some very interesting research in genetics, which one of my fellow nurses was assisting him in. They wanted to demonstrate their amazing new discovery to me, but they first warned me of the aggressive tendencies of the creature they were creating.
The doctor had an embryo that was developing in a bag of saline. It rapidly grew limb buds. At this point, he injected a smaller embryo into its spine. A long creature with scathing claws and thrashing jaws quickly developed. A small worm was injected into the bag of saline, which the embryonic creation quickly sought out and brutally devoured.
Within a matter of minutes, the creature was fully developed. Usually the experiment would end here, but this time the doctor let it continue. The fetal beast burst out of the bag of saline and leaped onto one of the shelves lining the laboratory. It was...dun dun dun.....
.... a tiny, adorable kitten.
We regarded it fearfully.
"Don't let it bite or scratch you," the doctor warned, "lest you become infected with its venemous rage." Then he left Colleen, my sisters and I to deal with the ferocious devil.
The rest of the evening was spent boldly and dramatically defending ourselves from scratches and attempting to sequester the three other (normal) cats in the house so that our beloved pets wouldn't get infected. We eventually trapped the monster-kitten in my guinea pig's old cage.
This was when we discovered that if not watched constantly, the kitten could morph and squeeze itself out of the cage.
It dawned on us that we would have to kill it.
We tried to be humane. We injected the tiny, 3-pound fiend with 2 mg of Ativan (which is enough to make multi-substance abusers drowsy). But we just couldn't be sure that this magical and cunning violent hybrid was actually dead.
So we microwaved it until it exploded.
Twice.
No comments:
Post a Comment