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July 8, 2013 at 12:27 PMComments: 1 Faves: 0

A Minion By Any Other Name, Part II: My Life as a Squirrel

By E.M. Wollof from SLN More Blogs by This AuthorFrom the The Blog Cosmic Blog Series

Where did we leave off? Ah yes, the Good Doctor is tripping hard and about to fuse my genetic code with that of your garden variety squirrel. Not the most illustrious creature in the animal kingdom, I will certainly give you that, but you have to give the Doctor perks for excellence in experimentation.

Really, when you stop to ponder the entirety of the situation, the mood that the Good Doctor and I were in, and the high-grade nature of the LSD that the Doctor can cook up, I consider myself fortunate not to be some freakishly large rage beast who would have ripped through the world until a cadre of tanks brought me down. Instead, I am an adorable squirrel-man with a taste for vengeance and Yumnuts Easy Cajun Cashews. If you have yet to taste either, I would recommend the cashews first, then the vengeance, and possibly back to the cashews. There is nothing quite like a tasty snack after some fiery vengeance.

Upon stepping down from the quantum pedestal, a few new traits became glaringly clear, and my respect of the Sciuridae family of beasts increased exponentially (think on your many observations of squirrel life, dear reader: Tenacious survivalists, expert climbers, cute as a button, master tacticians, mischievous to a fault, admittedly less than proficient at road crossings, connoisseurs of the nut world, and some of us can fly. I know I am a bit biased, but an objective look at those traits should leave the average person pining for whiskers and a bushy tail. If not, you are most likely a "dog person." If this is the case, I suggest you go back to cleaning your anus with your tongue whilst I backtrack your IP address, find your home, and systematically wipe the stain of your miserable existence from this already filthy planet).

First, my eyesight had been improved exponentially. Not only was my vision infinitely clearer, but I could telescopically change the range of my vision at will. At one moment I would be noticing the unkempt visage of the Doctor, the next I would be detailing the hairs he was about to lose due to follicular damage. It took me a great deal of effort to reign in this new ability, but I can now transition effortlessly between normal vision and uber-squirrel vision. Excellent for scouting potential sniper nests, not so excellent for crossing roads.

Second, I could feel the quality of the air. I do not mean some governmental scare tactic type of quality either. I am talking about the actual feeling of the air. The barometric pressure. The oxygen level. The subtlest current breezing across my skin (It is a truly exhilarating experience, dear reader. One that I hope all of you one day have the chance to live with. Of course, that would imply that you were also put upon a quantum pedestal, had your DNA spliced with a squirrel, and came out unscathed. No offense, but statistically, that is less-than-likely. One can dream though!). This new sense became the determining factor for all of my movement. Each step is weighed against the air in which I move through, providing me with impeccable balance and graceful agility. Vibrissae are a most excellent evolutionary contraption.

Third, I could scale walls! My nails may look the standard human fair, but upon my mental command, they extend and hook slightly. Admittedly, my new ability leaves walls a bit marred, but my evil nature allows me to turn off any real regret about this (unless it is the lily wallpaper in our evil lair kitchen, I wouldn't dare climb that).

Lastly, I could smell everything. I'm still attempting to cope with this one. Living in an evil lair, 500 miles beneath the closest pocket of fresh air, with a man who tends toward the belief that "personal hygiene is just another way for the proverbial man to lock humanity in an evolutionary rut," does not lend itself well to super-smell. That being said, the missions that require a glorious ascent to the surface are a breath of fresh air (Super Squirrel Pun!!).

There are a few drawbacks to being adorable and super-powered. For one thing, I feel or sense everything within a radius of approximately 1.8675309 miles around me. There was a two week period of adjustment in which I had to wear an adult-diaper to accommodate me involuntarily urinating at every noise above five decibels. In a lab run by a man with an addiction to Metal, this adds up to a plethora of diapers ( or "sanitary hammocks," as the Doctor became so fond of calling them). My two weeks of misery were compounded by the fact that the Doctor giggled incessantly every time I would commit the embarrassing deed. Once I took to furrowing into his favorite throw pillow set, he stopped.

I also developed a penchant for eating insects. Again, a lab 500 miles beneath the Earth's crust sports a wide variety of life that surface dwellers will never see. Try as I might, I could not seem to quell this desire. So, I have fully embraced it. I now supplement my gourmet nut cuisine with the finest insects sub-surface dwelling has to offer.

Needless to say, my new-found life as a possible future phase of human evolution was difficult. My first morning saw me waking up one foot into my pillow top mattress, buttressed by a layer of wood shavings, shredded paper, and tulip petals, all held together by what I could only assume was my own saliva.

As it turns out, the wood chips came from the mast of a 1:1 model of the Argo that the Doctor had spent years constructing (for all those who may have forgotten about the existence of literature, the Argo was the ship on which Jason and the Argonauts are said to have sailed from Iolcos to retrieve the Golden Fleece). The paper shavings were originally a rough sketch blueprint of a device that converted the electro-magnetic fields emitted by Earthly creatures into a narrow band, effectively channeling the field into a propulsion system. The tulip petals came from a new strand of tulip that the Doctor developed. Each flower could be encoded with human DNA that would allow the flower to target a specific person, eliciting an allergic reaction that leads to death within a 2-4 minute time frame. Needless to say, the Doctor had to spend a few hours in the Destructo-room to sort through his losses.

Our first trip to the surface after the procedure was equally disastrous. Not even out of the mag-lift for 10 minutes, I violently attacked a woman who had an open bag of wasabi flavored almonds hidden deep within the abyss that passes for a female purse in this day and age. By the time I had found what I was looking for, the woman had very little skin left and was in quite a bit of agony. Being the great man that he is, the Good Doctor quickly administered an epidermal regenerator, a memory liquidator, and a massive dose of LSD. That woman went on to have the best day of her life. I do believe the new skin landed her a role in a few films. Julia Roberts was her name, if memory serves.

Adapting to life above the surface, the very little we partook in such adventures, was difficult. But, here I am, typing away on my ergonomically sound, squirrel-man adapted, keyboard, letting you know a little more about the real Minion.

Next time I will regale you with the tale of our first meeting with Magneto!

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1 Comment

  • I love the last graphic in your blog - who's taking that picture anyways? The squirrel or the man? It makes me laugh!

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