Wednesday, July 20, 2005
Ultraviolet Incubator Part Two
I carved up an egg carton and made a cushioned perch for the egg. I sat it upon the center of my father's desk and stared at it. It failed to speak, hatch, or explode. I needed a catalyst to crack the mystery. I decided to inspect the egg further for clues. No smell, apart from the earth under which it had resided for an undetermined length of time. No sound when shaken. The only marking upon it was the heavy brown speckling.
I wanted to turn to my missing father for inspiration, but he was absent and silent. I couldn't ask my mother for help. She'd likely take the egg, turn it over to the government, and forbid me to speak of it ever again. Nope, this baby was all mine.
I did what any student who'd hatched baby chicks in kindergarten would do: I put the egg in an incubator, following the included instructions to the letter. I hid this in my closet, the only evidence of its existence the power cable running from beneath the door.
For two weeks I watched the egg with fascinated captivation. It didn't twitch, shake, or crack during that period. Nothing. Despite this lack of activity, my enthusiasm never waned. Finally, on the 15th day, a tiny little claw poked a tiny little hole in the shell. As I watched, the shell broke open further. Seven creatures extracted themselves from the toasty container. All were small slimy little guys, like short snakes with legs. They were striped in brown and yellow and they blinked a lot. A whole family of the cutest things I'd ever seen, and they were mine.
As a fourteen year old, caution and prudence had no place in my vocabulary. I didn't stop to wonder why my father had hidden this egg at home. I didn't ask myself what the government was doing with nimble little amphibians. I just ripped the lid from the incubator and stuck in my hand.
They had teeth. Small, sharp teeth. One of the lizardly babies padded its way toward my hand. It took a quick sniff. Awww. The little fella was curious. When it sunk fangs into the skin of my index finger, I cried out and ripped my hand from the tank, shocked and dismayed. As I landed on my ass, I felt burning heat run up my arm. Fast. When it reached my brain, the pain in my finger went away, I had the first orgasm of my life, and I collapsed onto my back. Waves of pleasure massaged every nerve in my body. I was floating. What great pets.
I was also paralyzed. I discovered this when I tried to move my arm to reach into my shorts. No response from the left limb, none from the right. I was helpless. I didn't mind until the pleasure ebbed away. When the euphoria was gone, I lay there prone for an hour before bodily control began to return. It took me another hour to completely regain my motor skills.
My first thought was to have another go at the glandular sex sauce. I reached for the incubator, but it was toppled over, and the seven hatchlings had all escaped.
More? Maybe. Okay, probably.
3:24 PM - Bottle Rocket Fire Alarm
RECENTUltraviolet Incubator Part One
Fish Hook Sword
Suicide For Beginners
Dead Letter Shrapnel - Dale
Rainbow Syringe Gallery
Dead Letter Shrapnel - Tupac
Dead Letter Shrapnel - Bob
Dead Letter Shrapnel - Kurt
Galactic Bio-Electrical Chemistry
Can Of Corn