Tag Archives: Huey Lewis

Back Off, Man—I’m An Ornithologist: My Brief Career As A Teenage Duckbuster

Back Off, Man—I’m An Ornithologist: My Brief Career As A Teenage Duckbuster

He knew he was probably too late when he saw the sparks. Not just sparks, really: massive bolts of machine-made lightning, lashing bullwhips of crackling energy. At least he no longer had to worry about moving with stealth; the doctor was too consumed with the work at hand to notice him, in thrall to a task of equal parts science, black magic, and madness. A hunchbacked servant, his crooked fangs gleaming in the brilliant light, cowered in fear and fascination as the thing, the monster, convulsed under the Promethean energies the doctor had unleashed upon him. An inhuman cry filled the cavernous stone room.

“QUACK!”

Accepting A Rude God Implicitly: How My Tiger Lost An Eye At Summer Camp

Accepting A Rude God Implicitly: How My Tiger Lost An Eye At Summer Camp

When I woke up in my sleeping bag and realized Chris’s glass eye had fallen out of its socket in the night, I began to scream. I screamed like a man awakening to find his best friend’s hollow, bloody socket staring at him across the smoldering ashes of last night’s campfire.

Chris was my stuffed tiger. I’d named him after a kid who’d convinced me to ride my Big Wheel in the street, even though riding tricycles in the street was forbidden by my mother. Like any cyclist with a “share the road” mentality, Chris (the kid, not the tiger) believed the onus was on the motorist not to crush our tiny child-sized skulls with their enormous 1980s car grills.