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Thursday, September 16, 2004
Have you ever had one of those days when you just couldn't wait to shout out Fools! I'll destroy them all!?
Today wasn't that sort of day.
I do, however, often silently mumble that phrase to myself when I am in a queue or walking behind a person with snail-derived DNA.* It's when I am waiting that I entertain mad scientist fantasies. If high school calculus didn't perplex me so, I would have been well on my way to a career in the [mad] sciences.
Snarling ten-foot hamsters with razor-sharp teeth and a taste for human flesh!
Canaries infused with piranha genes and bred for the temperament of a pit bull!
Great white shark heads surgically transplanted on bunny rabbit bodies and surreptitiously deposited in the local petting zoo!
Eight-legged cobra chinchillas that spit out cyanide!
Mr. Dubois, my grade twelve math teacher, put an end to all my hopes. He, the nerd who could play Bill Gates in a biopic, never came by to help me while I waved my hand back and forth.
Victoria Loria got all his attention. He just liked her because her names rhymed.
My dreams would have been realized if I was Peter Pumpkineater. Or Humpty-Dumpty. Or Fuzzy Wuzzy. Or Care Bear.
I ended up in university with majors in Art History and Chinese. No one has ever destroyed the world with that background. I am the laughing stock of the mad scientist community.
I do have a plan. Tarantula fangs grafted on bucolic landscapes! Whippy poison-drenched tentacles attached to the Venus de Milo! Mammoth ten-ton porcupine-spined Chinese dictionaries that leap off shelves onto unsuspecting library patrons! A combination of my two majors: Renaissance statuary that ejects sharpened chopsticks at 160 miles an hour!
Fools, I shall destroy you all.
*Driving emboldens my drunken violent sailor persona.
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