The writings of Johnny Pain
I went to M. this morning with my idea to spend the rent money on a suit of living hamsters, trained to kill; told her, "Look, next time someone tries to force me into a van, and kidnap me, they will be grabbing a rabid hamster hell bent on biting." I pointed at my stick drawings showing a man holding a gun on me as a hamster bites off the offending arm (this is an exaggeration -- it actually takes them quite an effort to break the skin at their present skill level, though training should clear this up any day now, I expect).
"How often do people try to kidnap you? You don't leave the apartment except to walk the dog."
"There was an incident ... just yesterday . . . I didn't want to alarm you until I had thought of a solution, like this Anti-Terrorist Hamster Device that I am proposing. Not that I want you to feel pressured into making a decision, or anything, but I really should point out that you more than likely hold the very fate of the apartment in your hand, M.... if not the entire goddamn neighborhood!!"
"Yea, right... I told you already, there is no way in hell that I am going to let you hire a tailor to make little hamster pockets in a suit for those hamsters."
"You told me that I couldn't hire a tailor to make pockets. Thank dog you said nothing about not gluing hamsters to a suit, or I wouldn't even be able to create proto-type."
"You know that I meant, no suit, period."
"No, when you say, "Don't hire a tailor to create hamster pockets, no matter how good the idea is... not that you said it like this... regardless, this means -- don't hire a tailor to create hamster pockets, and nothing more. Sometimes M., it is really hard, for an English Major, like me, to talk to you."
I've just begun to strategize on how to get this Suite Of Armor That Can Actually Attack into production. . . if anyone can think of how to talk some sense into M., you would be doing me a favor if you gave her a call. Everytime I try to bring this up again she starts throwing stuff at me. She actually threw the cat at me this morning. A declawed cat, freaked out and screaming, is not something you ever want hurled at your crotch, believe me.
The 89.73 hours that I spent working out the schematic drawings of the suit and researching tecniques to drive hamsters stark raving mad were not entirely wasted, I suppose... I just can't help but believe that I am one step closer to my ultimate goal of merging Man and Hamster's DNA into a super being... Oh, if mankind could just have the brain of the hamster!!!! We could achieve so much!!! Like greater powers of navigating habit trails, for instance..."