Laura looked at the thing on her lab table.
"Okay, seriously, WTF!" She very nearly raised her voice. "What am I supposed to do with that? I mean, disssect it, pickle it, What?"
The poor girl was at her wits end. She had taken this job as a lab assistant because it paid well and worked with her party girl hours. But this thing was crossing the line. It was hideous and for the life of her she could not think where the Dr. would have found it.
Laura had learned not to ask questions of the Dr. He bordered of completely creepy. And his work crossed that line, as far as she was concerned. Laura was pretty sure that the good Dr. would be getting her letter of resignation in the morning. She just hoped that she didn't wind up in a pickle jar afterwards.
Sunday, January 20, 2008
Pickle Jar
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Dr. Reynaldo stepped up to the podium, his regal gray head held high. The crowd hushed. Even the photographers stilled themselves, against their inclinations. Not a single camera flashed. No one dared to breathe as the reclusive scientist took a deep breath.
"I have mastered nature," he announced in his calm, measured way. "I am god to my creations. Exhibit A, I have crossed an elephant with a bumblebee. Exhibit B, a hybrid frog-rabbit. Exhibit C, the anteater-rat. I will now entertain questions."
They fell over each other, shouting, but he identified the gentleman from the New York Times, as always.
"Dr. Reynaldo, why?" asked the pressman.
"Why? Why?" the great man sputtered. "You ask me why? I present to you the greatest achievement known in the sciences, the advancement of human knowledge to divine status, and you ask me why?"
He pounded his fist on the podium. "This press conference is over."
C'mon! This isn't some kid's game of roll your Easter egg to the finish line!
I painted my nails a pretty pink!
Move! Get going!
I bet twenty bucks on you!
Go, you ugly thing! Win!
Hey! Stop prodding me. I'm not running this course. You want to win? You run it. Leave me out of it! I'm happy where I am.
Laura looked at the thing on her lab table.
"Okay, seriously, WTF!" She very nearly raised her voice. "What am I supposed to do with that? I mean, disssect it, pickle it, What?"
The poor girl was at her wits end. SHe had taken this job as a lab assistant because it paid well and worked with her party girl hours. But this thing was crossing the line. It was hideous and for the life of her she could not think where the Dr. would have found it.
Laura had learned not to ask questions of the Dr. He bordered of completely creepy. And his work crossed that line, as far as she was concerned. Laura was pretty sure that the good Dr. would be getting her letter of resignation in the morning. She just hoped that she didn't wind up in a pickle jar afterwards.
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