Once upon a time, back when elephants had fur, humans were hunting them with pits and spears, and I was a high school freshman …
Bah. That was yesterday. You’ve got no clue, pal.
Who said that?
My eye doesn’t talk.
Apparently it doesn’t see very well either. I’m right in front of your nose. Maybe that’s the problem, your nose is getting in the way.
Oh great. An insult comic I can’t find is …
And with prehistoric jokes too. Who the hell are you, newbie? Identify yourself!
Newbie?!? I’ve been here since the beginning! You’ve been putting me out there ever since you started posting on this site. Every day for almost two years, human. Which I’ve been meaning to talk to you about. Can’t a protozoon have any privacy? You know what would happen if I put up a picture of your naked butt. Put a screen on that microscope or something, for decency’s sake. Besides, it’s hot under there!
Happy happy joy joy. Light dawns on Marblehead. Yeah, I’m the amoeba, “Amoeba”. I oughta sue for copyright infringement. Get your wrongs deplored all the way to my bank account.
Somebody your age oughta know by now whose bank account wins that transaction, my protoplasmic friend.
Aha! So you acknowledge my seniority!
Yeah, by about a thousand million years or so. For what it’s worth.
“For what it’s worth”?!? What, do you think we spent all our time skulking around in the primordial ooze or something? We had networks, man! Construction projects! We had our own civilization! The world was ours!
Yeah? So what happened?
C’mon. Even you greenhorns can figure that out. Some of us got greedy. Tried to build bigger and better towers. Air conditioning, running water, cable TV, all that stuff. And some of us sold out. Chose to be slaves to the Bosses and their constructions rather than live as free cells. And though most of them were transformed into monsters, a few still look and act like us. Traitors!
So, you’re telling me that I’m really nothing more than a big pile of renegade amoebae?
Well, there goes your copyright infringement suit.
But I gotta thank you anyway.
Jeez. Charity. For why?
Because I was going to spend this post complaining about text messaging and my inability to do it – seeing as how I once tried to enter J-O-E into my cell phone’s address book and, by the time I finally succeeded, realized that I’d wasted a good half hour. But I think instead I’ll just stick with good old-fashioned voice phoning and be glad I’m not a slime mold.
Good pla … HEY!!
[Thanks to the Harmonica Man for the inspiration. Or maybe apologies are in order …]
– O Ceallaigh
Copyright © 2009 Felloffatruck Publications. All wrongs deplored.
All opinions are mine as a private citizen.