Ponderings
By Ban-draoia
(Disclaimers at the bottom.)
My roommate is a fool and a madmouse. There is no two ways about it.
Every plan to take over the world--no matter how simple it is--he ruins it.
Every chance to seize control, we miss because of his actions.
The run for the presidency, for instance. The White House would have been ours
if he hadn't botched our appearance at the convention. Or the Fort Knox scheme.
Even a simpleton should know that gold is too heavy to lift in great
quantities--especially for mice. And then there was the incident involving mind
control and country music. If the mishap with the subliminal music tape hadn't
happened, those people would have been ours to command.
Sometimes I have to wonder why I bother to keep him around. I'm light years
ahead of him intellectually, and I'm certain I could find a cagemate on my level
somewhere in the labs. It's not like there's a shortage of mice around here.
Perhaps it's the entertainment value. Trying and failing to take over the world
night after night is tedious work, after all, and relief is necessary. I just
wish that relief didn't give me a near-constant headache.
Still, if he weren't here, I shudder to think what I myself would be like. I've
seen one possibility in the form of Snowball and his madness. Never a more
psychotic hamster has ever walked the face of the earth. True, he's managed to
foil our schemes more than once, but at what cost? Would the world truly be
worth the loss of my sanity? I pray I never discover the answer.
So here we are, time and again trying to take power. And we're always doomed to
fail.
And as I watch the sunset through the laboratory window, I wonder...is it worth
it?
I find myself asking that question more and more often these days.
I barely listen to my roommate as he starts babbling about something or other.
I'm not particularly interested in what he has to say, and the subject of the
technicians' conversation during my time in the maze this morning may fit into a
theory I've been researching since my genes were first spliced.
My roommate has ceased his ranting and is attempting to attract my attention.
"Pinky, I said, are you pondering what I'm pondering?"
"I think so, Brain," I reply, "but if I were an octopus, I'd still be allergic
to kiwis."
And so it goes...
For Ed, who gave me the idea.
Pinky and the Brain are (c) 1993 and 1999 by Warner Brothers, Inc. They aren't
mine, and I'm using them without permission. Please don't sue me. I don't have
anything worth taking.
By Ban-draoia
(Disclaimers at the bottom.)
My roommate is a fool and a madmouse. There is no two ways about it.
Every plan to take over the world--no matter how simple it is--he ruins it.
Every chance to seize control, we miss because of his actions.
The run for the presidency, for instance. The White House would have been ours
if he hadn't botched our appearance at the convention. Or the Fort Knox scheme.
Even a simpleton should know that gold is too heavy to lift in great
quantities--especially for mice. And then there was the incident involving mind
control and country music. If the mishap with the subliminal music tape hadn't
happened, those people would have been ours to command.
Sometimes I have to wonder why I bother to keep him around. I'm light years
ahead of him intellectually, and I'm certain I could find a cagemate on my level
somewhere in the labs. It's not like there's a shortage of mice around here.
Perhaps it's the entertainment value. Trying and failing to take over the world
night after night is tedious work, after all, and relief is necessary. I just
wish that relief didn't give me a near-constant headache.
Still, if he weren't here, I shudder to think what I myself would be like. I've
seen one possibility in the form of Snowball and his madness. Never a more
psychotic hamster has ever walked the face of the earth. True, he's managed to
foil our schemes more than once, but at what cost? Would the world truly be
worth the loss of my sanity? I pray I never discover the answer.
So here we are, time and again trying to take power. And we're always doomed to
fail.
And as I watch the sunset through the laboratory window, I wonder...is it worth
it?
I find myself asking that question more and more often these days.
I barely listen to my roommate as he starts babbling about something or other.
I'm not particularly interested in what he has to say, and the subject of the
technicians' conversation during my time in the maze this morning may fit into a
theory I've been researching since my genes were first spliced.
My roommate has ceased his ranting and is attempting to attract my attention.
"Pinky, I said, are you pondering what I'm pondering?"
"I think so, Brain," I reply, "but if I were an octopus, I'd still be allergic
to kiwis."
And so it goes...
For Ed, who gave me the idea.
Pinky and the Brain are (c) 1993 and 1999 by Warner Brothers, Inc. They aren't
mine, and I'm using them without permission. Please don't sue me. I don't have
anything worth taking.