THE FUTURIST!'s Sunday morning ritual of consuming a hearty breakfast, while perusing the Utter Despair Gazette Weekend Arts & Entertainment section, was disturbed by an amazing occurrence ... molecular alteration in his kitchen environs. As THE FUTURIST! paused reading an article on the possibility of Zac Efron reprising the role of Atticus Finch in a new Disney musical version of To Kill a Mockingbird, he heard a strange buzzing noise. At first, he thought the toaster was on the fritz and turned his head expecting to see smoke wafting from the Proctor Silex 4 Slicer. The noise increased and was coming from near the very table he was seated at. He turned again and saw the atmosphere in front of him start to wave and become out of focus. Tiny particles of technicolor static were forming. The particles bounced and twirled and started to form a pattern ... it seemed to be trying to maintain the form of an individual ... a human form. THE FUTURIST! reached for his glass of King Sunshine Orange Juice and tasted it ... no ... there was no Norway Fjord Vodka mixed in it (that would be later in the afternoon). This was no alcohol induced moment of unreality. This was actually happening. But ... what was happening? He reached for his cell phone and snapped a picture in order to prove to others, specifically haiku, that this strange moment was occurring. Then, the particles, like an organized of rainbow colored buzzing bees began to organize themselves into an actual visual presence (SEE PICTURE ABOVE) ... it was Dr. Seussonoras!! An electronic hologram of the good doctor was forming right in THE FUTURIST!'s breakfast nook. It wavered ... it faded ... it became brighter ... a voice was heard with a distinct human tone, but produced with electronic humming.
"Fu-Fu-Fu-TURizzzTT! It is me ... Doc-doc-DOCtor Seusso-soo-sonoRAS . * zzzzzzzzzz * Try-trying out new partic-par-ticle trans-porter * buzzzz * Can yu yu yu YOU sszzzzeeee me? I'm am currently in *zzzz* Sha- shattered Hope, Mich-igan ... *** buzzz huuummmm *** How are you? .... Are you having pan-pan-pancakes? Look good .. * zzz *
THE FUTURIST! was in shock, yet asked Dr. Seussonoras if he would care for some coffee and a few silver dollar pancakes. The Good Doctor said thank you, but explained that he would be unable to physically pick up anything due to his not being physically there, but commented on the beautiful china plate THE FUTURIST! was using and the perfectly formed pancakes.
"Those sss-ss-zzzilver dollar pancakezzz look so good and zzzo real ... I could slide them in a parking meter ... or a vibrating bed in a cheap motel where I could enjoy kinky antics with a very libidinous, but highly intellectual romantic partner ... mmm ... good. You have some syrup on your tie .. ** ZZZ ***"
THE FUTURIST! looked down saw he had accidentally let a dollop of maple syrup fall on his necktie and got up to get a towel to wipe it off. While doing so he noticed he had not plugged in the toaster. Two slices of wheat toast were waiting for their descent into the heated coils. He plugged it in and pushed the lever down. A loud bang of electronic aural origin erupted and he noticed that Dr. Seussonoras' form had disappeared and a white vapor wafted in the air.
Later he found out that, somehow, the toaster's electrical current had interrupted some ions or something in the atmosphere of the kitchen and forced the Doctor's particle self to reappear in an Assisted Living Rest Home a mile away at a table of four elderly women playing Chinese Checkers. One of the women screamed at the sight of the ghostly anti-matter Seussonoras and rolled out of her wheelchair and had a heart attack. This story appeared the next day in the Utter Despair Gazette's Local section. The story stated that the three other women where dispatched to psychiatric care due to their assertions they had seen a demon or rainbow colored ghost appear at their table talking about pancakes and intellectually stimulating dirty motel sex.
Dr. Seussonras tried to reappear once again that day, but it was while THE FUTURIST! was making penne pasta with clam sauce and making believe a wooden stirring spoon was a microphone as he lip-synched Tonight We Fly by The Divine Comedy. Startled, and a quite abashed, he asked the good doctor to refrain from reappearing or, at least, telephone with a forewarning.
3 comments:
Thank you for your participation in my experiment, FUTURIST! I must remember to call ahead of time in the future, but I must say you might consider joining a Divine Comedy cover band. I am working a new device that will allow one to create the aural presence of up to 17 instruments at one time with mere brain impulses.
Oh, I am sorry about your tie.
Doctor, its always a pleasure to have contact with you ... we have never met (only seen pictures), but this was the closest almost corporeal communication yet. Yes ... please do call ahead of time. Your sci-fi entrance into the kitchen caused a bit of stomach upset later in the day. The Silver Dollar Pancakes did not agree with acidic agitation of your electronic appearance. And the staining of the tie peeved my digestion.
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