Last night my dissections were interrupted by a burst of violent retching. The cat was throwing up on the kitchen floor. I checked the phone book and found there is such a thing as an "all-night" vetrinarian. A taped message promised a return call if I would "kindly" leave a number. After I hung up, movements in the stuff from my cat caught my eye. I got on my hands and knees for a closer inspection. Miraculous spaghetti colored things were slowly coiling -- uncoiling -- coiling -- uncoiling, like clock springs. Among them was a different, large, multi-segmented entity that swam peristalticly through the glistening film.
The phone rang. I instructed the vet to go fuck herself and never call again. What marvelous creatures had my cat provided? I hope they do well in the aquarium.
This event is causing me to reevaluate the implications of spontaneous generation, and has compelled me to inform your readers.
c 1996 g.santagada