The Depths Of Self


The prosperous civilization of microscopic denizens that is currently experiencing the local equivalent of global warming and acid rain throughout my stomach lining was confronted this morning with irrefutable proof of the existence of higher life forms from Up The Wet Tube Where The Sun Shines.

At the crack of dawn, after one of the longest periods of famine they had ever endured, a glowing orb of blinding light tethered to a gigantic black cable descended unannounced upon them and brought cataclysmic destruction to many thousands of dwellings of innocent bacteria, millions more dying of sheer fright.

They had never witnessed the Coming of the Endoscope, even though some of the foreign-smelling Outsiders (parasites that claimed to have come from Up There) used to tell tales of divine persecution, their cultural heirlooms passed from one generation of Helicobacter to another as word-of-cillia as they mooched near the acid pores they had farmed and waited for The Food to come.

After a few minutes, the Light of Doom dimmed slightly and immense shiny mandibles slid forth, uprooting the village of the Outsiders and taking many millions of them in the throes of Biopsy.

The natives rejoiced, for it was surely a Sign that the Outsiders were impious and unworthy of anything but punishment from He Who Burps In The Sky. The Food was sure to come again soon and bathe them in sweet effluvia, and they would not have to share it with the usurpers any more.

Then I woke up from the anaesthetic and came home to let it wear off before what promises to be pretty tough afternoon in the office.