Dear Editor:
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.
Best wishes,
Gene Santagada
c 1996 g.santagada