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X ________ ____ ___ X
X \______ \ _ _ _ __ ___ \ \/ / An Old Battery Collection X
X | | \ | | | | '__/ _ \ \ / -------------------- X
X | ` \| |_| | | | __/ / \ by Moses Blumensteil X
X /_______ / \__,_|_| \___|/___/\ \ X
Xxxxxxxxxxx\/ Blender Corporation \_/xxxxxxx[DBC012(WITG)-MB.930211]xxxxxxX
Thomas Garbo was exceptionally intelligent. When his best friend Felix
died, Thomas honored his friend by having Felix's funeral in his own home.
Following the event, Felix was buried in the backyard.
Because Felix was a cross between human and feline, he required a
special, expensive coffin which Thomas paid for out of his own money.
Thomas had always spent the greater part of his spare time talking with
Felix, and now that Felix was dead, he decided he should develop some new
hobbies. In the meantime he had been spending a lot of hours watching The
Three Stooges in Technicolor. Thomas didn't know why he could tolerate
eleven hours of Stooges, but he considered it to be one of his many
endowments, a skill sure to come in useful in life. Perhaps he would fall in
love with a stooge some day.
There was little Thomas could think of to spend his time doing. As a
child he had received no toys, nor been encouraged or even openly allowed to
engage in any kind of activity. Fortunately his parents had supplied him
with all the white lined paper he could stack to the ceiling. Sometimes he
had a great deal of fun with it. For example, he liked to write letters to
Congress, or to his teachers, or sometimes he would just write the same word,
over and over and over again.
Thomas considered picking up his old hobby, but eventually decided that
he had matured too much for it. He considered some other ideas, such as
punching complete strangers for no reason, or collecting effeminate objects
and then embarrassing himself by telling people about it. Finally he decided
that he would buy a pet. Pets made loving companions, just as Felix had.
Maybe he would buy a cat, and then name it Felix.
The next day he set out for the "Out of Touch" pet shop. It was a nice
day, aside from the white, milky liquid that was dripping from the sky. As
he passed by the grammar school he was made aware that they had finally
passed the law that made cigar smoking legal in all public schools. Smoke
was coming out through all the windows, and he could smell the stench all the
way down the street.
In front of the pet shop were two dogs, mating in a muddy puddle. Only
moderately offended, Thomas paid little attention to their spectacle and
quickly made his way inside.
Upon his entrance, Thomas noticed a variety of different pets. He saw
no cats that drew his attention, but there were some other nice animals on
display.
On the left side of the store in a little cage was a tiny duck no
bigger than Thomas' thumb (I should mention, however, that Thomas had an
exceptionally large thumb).
A few feet away from the duck was a monkey. It was wearing a spiked
collar and, on a little bagpipe, was playing a version of "An American in
Paris" which Thomas had never heard before. When Thomas approached the
monkey, it put its bagpipe down on a little pedestal and began to bark.
Looking right into Thomas's eyes, the monkey barked ferociously until Thomas
backed off, almost to the door, at which point the monkey picked the bagpipe
up and began to play again.
Something hit Thomas. Something stronger than anything, and he wanted
the monkey, hungered for the monkey. As he neared it a second time, the
monkey not only barked, but began to fling confetti around everywhere, making
a mess of the shop. Without thinking, Thomas attacked and then ate the
monkey whole.
Thomas grabbed the tiny duck and started to look around for a cash
register when he noticed that over by the couch was a glass jar with a sign
above it that read "Honor System". Thomas put four dollars into the jar and
took the duck home.
Once home, Thomas took an old cardboard box that he had around and put
it in the backyard, right on top of Felix's fresh grave. This made a decent
home for his new duck, which he named Felix.
The next day Thomas's friend Garbo came over. Garbo was a nice guy, but
he was not pleasant to talk to or eat with, as he had no lips.
"Hey Thomas, how's things?" Garbo asked. He really liked to use the
word 'things' a lot.
"Well, you know, there's this thing, life. Then, of course, there isn't
unless your doing something."
Then Garbo gave his little spiel (they did conversational back and forth
things a lot, despite the unpleasantness for Thomas) "Man, I just got this
new thing, right, and now they tell me that I can't do that other thing
anymore." Despite Thomas's exceptional intelligence, he found it difficult to
penetrate Garbo's vagueness.
"Anyway," Garbo went on, "I was wondering if you wanted to go to this
thing with me in that marine town, they're going to have a clambake tomorrow.
It's a festival to celebrate Exceptional Intelligence Day."
Exceptional Intelligence Day is the day on which all the exceptionally
intelligent people wear striped trousers and go to clambakes to celebrate
their own exceptional sexual drives.
"No thanks Garbo, I'm going to spend Exceptional Intelligence Day
inside, thinking about the clouds. You know how I like to do that
sometimes."
"O.K., don't hurt yourself."
Thomas appreciated Garbo's concern. However, he did hurt himself the
next day, just as he hurt himself everyday. He loved the taste of his own
blood, and he tasted it every chance he had. He resided in a house with
walls pasted with a hundred different layers of wall paper, all peeling at
once, and there was still room in the house for decoration.
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xX Copyright (C) 1993 by The Durex Blender Corporation & M. Blumensteil Xx
xX All Rights Reserved. Text used with kind permission. Xx
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xX The Durex Blender Corporation / Box 381511 / Cambridge, MA 02238-1511 Xx
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