Crazy Carl's Column O Stuff
Thoughts By Crazy Carl
Disclaimer: All crickets present say "Aye"
Well, wasn't that a nice vacation. Personally, three weeks in the tropical town of Saltcoats is too much to stand. Sure, we have a lake but it is best known as a slough as is. Work kept Tyler busy, so I did not have much time to be creative and mess with his mind. But while I remained dormant I sat there brooding and plotting. Things that a guy like me should not be doing considering my mental state.
I spent those three weeks starting a new hobby. The detective business was just a short moonlighting anyhow. I needed more excitement, more intrigue, more.... chicken salad sandwiches. I ordered a neat science kit through the mail; I got the order form from the back of one of my old Richie Rich comics. The package arrived promptly in 6 to 8 weeks and a happily whisked it away to my lower caverns to test it out. I started out studying crickets.
Most people think that crickets are harmless insects that sing beautiful romance inducing medleys. You always hear them in the most tear jerking moments in movies, there had to be some kind of hypnotic effect. Little did I know what kind of trouble I was headed into.
I was studying Test Subject #4, who I had placed in a sealed container with air holes and no food. I wanted to see how a cricket dealt with starvation. The cricket did not seem to be suffering from any maladies after the first few weeks; in fact it seemed to improve whenever I went to look at it. Also very odd was the fact that I had a craving for cheesecake and Titanic after my weekly studies. Odd, very odd what could be the correlation - a non-starving foodless cricket and me feeling how you say... feminine? This drove me wild with curiosity, so eventually good old #4 was dissected.
I was startled to find a large quantity of testosterone in the cricket's body... especially since it was a female. Then it hit me. Crickets are God's testosterone-estrogen converters. Oh God is such a tricky fellow. My next problem was to see what could reverse this process, as I seemed to be growing rather large pectorals recently. I thought to myself what could change this back, and how could I do it with the materials I had. There was no way I was going into public looking like this. The problem came to me rather quickly as I am such a bright thinker.
The undead are greatly misunderstood. Sure they eat living flesh to sustain their limbo-like state, but hey are just trying to survive. Sure females cringe and fear their presence, but the males always seem to be able to overcome these adversaries as if they are given some kind of boost. Most people think this boost comes from the man's love for their girlfriend/ lover, but they are so freaking wrong. You see, the undead are Hades' answer to God's crickets.
Now I had ethical problems. Dabble in the dark arts or remain a half woman half man hybrid. The answer was clear. I grabbed a sixer of Canadian and took the old body of #4 to use as my vehicle of "undeath". Four hours later when a lightning storm hit, (how convenient) I had created Franken-cricket, but I called him Jiminy for short. In a few short minutes a regained the ability to grow facial hair and my figure slimmed down quite a bit. I was back to what I called "normal".
So know all you women out there can understand why guys hate going to those "chick flicks". It's their own manhood at risk, and we wouldn't want that to go away now would we? And the same goes for you guys out there. Don't take your lady out to see Night of the Living Badgers #4 unless you want her to start looking like your uncle Chester. With this all solved in the world, I believe my next experiment will be on chicken and its addictive natural ingredients. But before that, I need to get me a bucket from my old pal the Colonel.
Copyright Tyler Saunders (2000)