From the Desk of Dr. Bohner Unicorne
Dear Disney Corporation,
With the close of the millennium already a decade past us, it is now the perfect time to reflect on the coming apocalypse. Not that I need to tell you that, of course. Science has a long tradition of turning to those it holds with the purse strings before they notify government authorities. No doubt a Disney authorized “rocketeer” gave an elaborate demonstration for the benefit of all the shareholders. And then the boys in R &D got a crack at it, I’ll bet. That’s a business stays agile, by keeping finances fluid. I’m sure there are gas masks with mouse ears in our future and I’m anxious for their dispersal via online merchant (or convenient display in the front of the Disney Store at our local mall).
While the implements of our destruction haven’t been decided, it’s important to contain as much panic before the coming asteroid/nuclear strike/molecular breakdown goes public. I’m alluding to animated movies with suggested themes of heroes befriending loveable strands of flesh eating bacteria. Or perhaps wisecracking sidekicks made from weapons of mass destruction. If the hero(ine) falls in love, could the lover be freed from the their own tyrannical ignorance through amorous displays within a bomb shelter? And think of all the fun audiences will have, seeing it, IN 3-D!
Time is of the essence. I turn to you because in our modern age, capitalism moves faster than the government. You create the illusion that anything is possible. Surely, this was not strictly for financial gain? When someone wishes upon a star, that wasn’t just fancy, was it? (It maybe pertinent to answer that now, before said star falls out of the sky and delivers us all to kingdom come.)
All I have to give is a warning. My resources are limited. But if my trip to Disneyland was any indication, your adherences to protocol will at least give me a fair say. And once again I deeply apologize to the seven “imagineers” I projectile vomited onto in the middle of “a Bug’s Life 3-D adventure”. It was a psychosomatic response to a repressed childhood memory. When I was a young lad, my parents locked me outdoors and in a panic I ran past a black widow’s web, knocking over a wasp’s nest with a beehive. It took me years to recover.
Here, in this very letter is the key not only to your financial stability, but to worldwide salvation. If we can convince one human being of this, we have failed. We must convince 3 heterosexual couples or else humanity will be lost. Not only must we be on guard for our own destruction, but accidental inbreeding in the rebuilding of human civilization. And pray, pray, pray that the notion of “lizard people” and “50 ft cockroaches” is just the fodder for science fiction writers (although I’m kind of partial to Robert A. Heinlein myself).
I await your reply, and your embrace,
Dr. Bohner Unicorne, Phd.
Don't Let Your Purple Blues Go Brown!
Short Comedic Essays
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
Friday, August 6, 2010
Donna can't relieve me from my workstation till 6:30, so I have to sit my desk and eat my lunch to keep from tossing over in my seat. I have a doctorate! I understand the great intricacies of our existence! I should not be subjected to this!
If I could will a giant asteroid onto this planet, destroying us all, lord knows I would press that button in a second. Wipe the slate clean. Let the cockroaches have a shot. Who knows? Maybe an advanced cockroach society is just the thing to let Madame Gaia let out that huge fart she's been holding back since the dawn of creation.
Humanity is a miserable experiment gone awry. Whoever put these chemicals to create us was a fucking idiot. And a boring one too. The same things happen in a more pathetic, generic state until everything is the bad ripoff to the next. From David Bowie to Lady GaGa, to The A-Team to its movie spinoff.
In DC Comics there's a place called the Bizarro universe where everything is upside down, little did those writers know all they were doing was describing post millennium Americana.
Curses! Why must I sit at this cubicle! Don't they understand my genius! I'll show them all! I'll show the world.! Bit by Bit I collect parts for my laser, and when it is completed, the world will bow to my mighty grasp!
If I could will a giant asteroid onto this planet, destroying us all, lord knows I would press that button in a second. Wipe the slate clean. Let the cockroaches have a shot. Who knows? Maybe an advanced cockroach society is just the thing to let Madame Gaia let out that huge fart she's been holding back since the dawn of creation.
Humanity is a miserable experiment gone awry. Whoever put these chemicals to create us was a fucking idiot. And a boring one too. The same things happen in a more pathetic, generic state until everything is the bad ripoff to the next. From David Bowie to Lady GaGa, to The A-Team to its movie spinoff.
In DC Comics there's a place called the Bizarro universe where everything is upside down, little did those writers know all they were doing was describing post millennium Americana.
Curses! Why must I sit at this cubicle! Don't they understand my genius! I'll show them all! I'll show the world.! Bit by Bit I collect parts for my laser, and when it is completed, the world will bow to my mighty grasp!
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