Monday, October 11, 2004

Beam it over, Scotty

We have discovered a mutant ability in Donovan. Donovan is a shit-o-porter.

The floor will be clean. No toys even laying around on it. There will be no movement. Nothing will be seen. Then, suddenly, from out of nowhere, a small inconspicuous pile of dog doo will appear. Donovan will be somewhere nearby, but no where near the pile. It is as if he goes to some dark corner and does his doo business, then contacts the mothership, orbiting somewhere just beyond the range of our sensors, and commands his chief engineering officer to transport his doo to the middle of the floor for pick up. I am not kidding. I have seen that little mutt squat, maybe once. The rest of the time he is off somewhere looking innocent while technologies well in advance of anything we have on this planet are buzzing and shit-o-porting. If we could just train him to give them the coordinates of the outside trash cans it would be much better.
I think training him is out of the question anyway. He obviously possesses abilities far above the ken of mortal men. I am sure we are all just mice in the maze of his sadistic science experiments. One day while cleaning, we will find his little lab coat and clipboard with all his scientific notations about our trainability for use as domestics on his home planet.
Until then, he will keep shit-o-porting and we will keep packing his doo.

Lab rat #687-38, signing off

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