Sunday morning I was up with the lark, at

Sunday morning I was up with the lark, at least I thought it was but it turned out to be an evil-looking crow that was half black and half white. I felt a sudden chill. I had never

seen a penguin before & since it was only my first day at the Arctic Research Station & I was just an engineer from hawaii. I kind of freaked out at the "evil crow kahuna" and

decided not to free it from the electrical wires. Some of the short circuiting cooked the penguin meat. After a month at the Research Station, the dead penguin melted into a black

and white puddle shaped like a baby seal. Watching and recording every last twitch was disgusting! Who signed me up to work in this waste land where only the weak get caught and

tickled to breaking point in the town library. I wouldn't break though. I had prepared for this moment for too long. No one alive could make me giggle. Except for this book

and that one dead man, but that's another story. The book, with its hilarious old book smell and comically faded green cloth cover, was making me snort as I ran through the library

The book's toxic hilarity leached via my pores, BAM! into my neurotransmitters, back down my spine into my elbow, stimulating my funny bone. I collapsed in stitches. The librarian

sniffed. This was not part of The Plan. The librarian pushed the secret red button while I lay on the floor, laughing uncontrollably. "Code 42!" she whispered into a hidden mic.

The sirens started wailing, and huge gashes opened in the ceiling. And, timidly at first, then in full force, a torrent of white, scented, fluffy toilet paper erupted from them.