On Camouflage

Dear Mr. OR, I came home this evening to find the Beast wearing some rather elaborate camouflage. It would seam that the Beast is attempting to solicit empathy and compassion by assimilating the look of a family pet. It is well known that the Lumpy's have a couple of cats. These cats are very well cared for pampered creatures and it is possible that the Beast noticed the discrepancy between the way that these pets are cared for and its own treatment. I am certain that the Beast had this in mind when it convinced my wife to put a hat which has little ears attached to the side onto its Beastly head.

This was a bit of an affront when I walked through the door after a long day of box staring but as I was unsure how to react I instead choose to ignore this image and go about my usual business. The Beast and my wife also continued their routine and I was almost able to forget that the Beast had the hat on until it came time for the Beast to have its daily allotment of gruel. This it devours by the spoonful usually quietly spitting half of it back out and gulping down the rest without incident. Not today; however. Today the Beast leaned forward greedily and grunted repeatedly sounding some what like a barn yard pig. Apparently the Beast is confused about the kind of animals we domesticate for indoor life around here.

I must admit I did not at first know what the Beast was doing as I had done such a good job of ignoring the hat, my first clue. Indeed I asked my wife about her preparation of the gruel and if she had unwittingly added something to it that the Beast enjoyed. She had of course not added anything new.

And so since the Beast desires to be a pet I have decided to somewhat indulge it. All of the Beasts meals now are served in a bowl on the floor and must be contended for as it turns out our feline companions also have a voracious appetite for gruel. I have also set up another small community litter box and removed the Beasts plastic bottom so that it can use it. The usual running of the front paws through the litter was done and so I have no fear that the Beast knows what to do. And so I leave you know to clean the litter boxes. I remain always;
Respectfully yours,

The Lumpy

On Government Interrogation

Dear Mr. OR,

I have begun to think that the government may be involved in the Beasts invasion plans or at the very least has recently become aware of them. You see we had another visit from the Red Cross the other day who upon arrival immediately assaulted me with all manor of questions about the Beast. I am happy to report that I am getting considerably better at answering these questions although I do find the exchanges to be considerably draining. This last visit ended with the Red Cross weighing the Beast and then upon noticing that she had lost weight and seeing the feeding chart I have been keeping, mostly to satisfy their questions, they demanded that I take the Beast to the hospital for some tests. And so after only a few hours at work in my box yesterday I left to meet up with my darling bride and take her and the Beast into the hospital.

As I was waiting for my darling bride to show up she was having problems of her own. Part way to the hospital the Beast became suspicious of its destination and became quite uneasy. The Beast quickly determined that it did not want this trip to proceed any further and immediately began applying its mind control techniques. My darling bride having been so well conditioned to give into the Beast by this point had no chance of resisting. The Beast first got her very lost and then forced her to run over several curbs, some broken glass, a board full of nails, and finally one cranky man named Algernon. All of this had the effect of shredding the front driver’s side tire making the car impossible to drive forward. After parking the car and helping Algernon, who was miraculously unharmed, to his feet my wife quickly caught a bus and then walked to my location.

The two of us now happily reunited we hopped into my car to continue our journey leaving the repair of her car for later. Although I am certain that the Beast tried its mind control tricks on me I am as of yet still very well fortified against them and we were able to make it to our destination without further incident.

Once there we found our selves in what appeared to be a maze for laboratory mice and I had the immediate urge to go sniffing around for some cheese but luckily there was a nice young man behind a desk in the lobby who noticed the look on my face and, after dissuading me from my pursuit of cheese, pointed us in the direction we needed to go.

It was upon our arrival at the doctors office that I figured out the government must be privy to what’s been going on. As we handed the doctor the Beast she first strapped some electrodes to the Beast and then took great pleasure in zapping the Beast over and over again. This having been accomplished she smeared the beast with some form of serum and then wrapped the Beast in saran wrap. Why I had never thought of this I do not know. She then asked us to cover the beast in several blankets and coats and other items which had the effect of turning the Beast into a giant self basting roast which could be carried from room to room. This is precisely what we did, walked room to room with our basting roast Beast. After several hours of walking we returned to the doctor who then began asking my wife questions which makes perfect sense as she is the only one of the two of us that the Beast can speak through.

The interrogation over we were released to pick up my wife’s car and to head home where I immediately sat down to write you this letter. I remain always;

Respectfully yours,

The Lumpy

On Mobsters and Competition

Dear Mr. OR,

My eyes have been opened in a whole new way to the amount of influence the Beast has over my darling bride. Last night the Lumpys left to meet a few of my wife’s friends. And so I happily followed my wife to what I thought would be a lovely evening of pleasant conversation. I was not; however, aware prior to the meeting that all of the other husbands had begged, lied, and bargained their ways out of coming along. So there I sat the only male surrounded by women who all had Beasts.

The conversation quickly turned to the subject of Beasts. It seams that the linguistic game is to try and prove that your Beast is somehow better than all the other Beasts while complimenting and talking about every Beast except your own. This was done largely by asking pointed questions about the evolutionary patterns of each individual Beast. This was all well and good for the first fifteen minutes but was getting a bit tiring after an hour. That is when it occurred to me. It was not the wives having the conversations but their Beasts.

As I looked around the table I could see each Beast had its poker face on. Each Beast sitting there quietly concentrating on the conversation and plotting its next linguistic attack. I could see the sinister look in the chubby eyes of the one across the table. The smug glare of the Beast too my right as its host made a particularly biting question for the host of the sinister one. My own Beast, rather gaunt next to these small fat mobsters, held an air of aloofness as if it possessed knowledge the others had not yet begun to fathom. Back and forth they went round and round the table. The Beasts constantly trying to throw each other off the track. The sinister Beast pretending to be asleep, the smug Beast pretending to pay more attention to its feeding device than to the conversation but their eyes stayed very attentive throughout and no one was ever thrown off track by their antics. Even as we loaded up the car and left you could see the combatants glaring at each other the entire trip to the vehicles.

It would seam that Beast culture is a very competitive culture in all regards. I have begun to wonder if perhaps a loss at an event such as this would mean that you would be the next meal on a cannibalistic outing. Unfortunately if this is the case I am not sure if we will soon find a Beast standing at our front door wearing bib and carrying fork and knife. Perhaps not. All Beasts seamed to leave the competition on equal footing. Pity. I remain always;

Respectfully yours,

The Lumpy

On Democracy and The Making of Soup

Dear Mr. OR,

I have been kept from writing of late because my life has turned into a miniature study in Chaos theory. Every little change and some non-changes have resulted in unpredictable out comes of monolithic proportions. And so it is with a sigh of tired relief that I sit down to pen this letter to you in the few moments of free time I have been able to muster.

My darling bride and I have recently had a visitor. A most agreeable young woman who came to us from another country and stayed for the week. This, at first, appeared to be a spot of good fortune as the lumpys do not often receive visitors and when they do the person is almost invariably of either the sales or religious profession. And so it was with great joy and open arms that the lumpys welcomed our visitor upon her arrival.

What I had of course forgotten is they way that the Beast is able to exert control over the female half of our species. This in and of itself would not be nearly so bad if it were not for the way the lumpy household is run. You see both I and my darling wife have a great respect for the founding fathers of this great nation and so set our household up under a democratic system. Majority rules under the Lumpys roof. Well it was just the My darling bride and I this was not a problem as it insured that whatever happened we were in agreement or there would be discussion until a majority could be gained. It has not changed greatly since the Beast came as it is a prerequisite that you must be able to speak English in order to have a voice or to vote. The Beast is still speaking Beastish although it does get a proxy vote through my wife.

Well all of a sudden there were two women about for the Beast to control. The Beast went to work immediately. After a very polite and warm welcome between myself and our guest, out guest went directly to the Beast and began crooning. This was a warning sign I had seen before and the alarm bells instantly went off in my head but what can one do? After all I had already welcomed her into our home. There was nothing for it but too fortify myself for what was to come.

It took little time before I had been voted into tending to the Beast while the two women sat quietly in the other room sipping tea. The Beast set in immediately howling at the top of its lungs as if it were a wolf and my ear was the full moon. Then as the craving came over it the Beast would bang its head down on my shoulder and bite down with great force. Luckily I was wearing some very thick clothing which the Beast was unable to penetrate. The Beast did succeed in drenching most of my left side with its foul liquid; however.

As the hour grew late the women folk took to following me around remarking on this Beastly feature or that Beastly feature and in general kept me from putting the Beast down or engaging in any form of interrogation. Before very long it became quite apparent to me that no supper would be forth coming if I did not find a way to remedy this situation. Yet I could think of no solution except to make it myself. And so the Beast and I left for the kitchen, the only room that the women would not enter for fear of having to do some work, to check the fridge. A quick inspection of fridge and freezer showed that there was little to no food for the making. It would appear that the lumpys needed to do their shopping.

About this time the Beast took another attempt at biting my shoulder. Suddenly the thought hit me. We eat all kinds of animals yet I had never tried Beast. I would imagine that it could be quite delicious. As I looked around I found enough vegetables and herbs for the making of a soup and so I busied myself with cutting carrots and celery. This labor done I found a large bowl which I filled with water and put on the stove. I placed the Beast in the water, grabbed the carrots and celery and was headed for the stove when I heard a loud shriek behind me.

Both women were upon me before my outstretched foot had hit the floor and I found myself, for the first time in my life, the victim of a violent beating. Luckily for the lumpy neither woman is a martial arts expert, nor were they armed, and so I came out of the incident without so much as a bruise. I was; however, voted into the basement for the remainder of the evening where I was lucky enough to find a bag of chips which I had left down there the day before. And so I spent the remainder of the evening eating chips and feeling generally happy to be free of the Beasts wailings for the time being. I remain always;

Respectfully yours,

The Lumpy

On Rug Burn and R2-D2

Dear Mr. OR,

I have noticed lately that the Beast has acquired a new form of movement. I find that the more my wife puts the Beast down the more the Beast learns in the way of navigating around our dry environment. Up until recently the Beast could only manage rolling in one direction. This of course severely limited its movements. And so the Beast has developed a new manner of movement. It has begun to pull its obscenely large belly across the floor with a serious of uncoordinated arm and leg movements. It is anybody’s guess how the Beast does not receive a healthy dosage of rug burn from this activity.

I have also learned a Beast code word. This has of course made me extremely happy as it means that I am getting closer to learning the Beasts language and there by become able to learn the Beasts plans. The Beast appears to be using a serious of letters to designate things. Not unlike the star wars characters C-3PO and R2-D2. The Beast has designated my wife MA-MA. It has taken me a while to figure this out as the Beast would often try to throw me off the trail by referring to other objects as MA-MA but whenever I would come near the Beast it would quickly look for my wife, mutter MA-MA, and my wife would come running to the Beasts rescue. As I learn more of the Beasts language I will continue to fill you in. I remain always;

Respectfully yours,

The Lumpy

On Racing Stripes and Conventional Warfare

Dear Mr. OR,

It appears that the Beast has, for a little while now, been working on a more conventional weapon. For some time I have been aware of the Beasts cannibalistic tendencies but I haven't worried very much about it as the Beast has no teeth. This doesn't entirely remove the danger as the Beast produces a plague ridden clear goo from its mouth that causes one to get sick; however, the Beasts bite itself if not comfortable, is at least bearable.

Since the Beasts diet consists of a thick gruel I was unsure at first why the Beast felt as though it needed to develop teeth. In hopes of receiving an answer I watched as the teeth grew from tiny little dots into sharp fully exposed fangs. Still these fangs seam worthless to the Beast. It was late last night that I found out the intent of the Beast.

As I sat in my favorite reading chair engaging in my favorite past time my wife wandered by and dropped the Beast near my feet and then left to get herself a cup of tea. I was so absorbed in my reading material that I barely noticed. That is until the Beast wrapped its plague ridden mouth around my big toe and bit down with the force of a trash compactor. Immediately I was on my feet hopping up and down; the Beast flapping from my big toe like a piranha hell bent on single handedly taking out the cow that has just wandered into its stream. My screams of anguish must have alerted my wife who came running into the room tackling me and the Beast and promptly grabbed hold of the Beast and yanked.

My big toe now has a pair of bloody racing stripes down the bottom where the Beasts two teeth pealed the flesh from the meat. I have treated the whole thing with peroxide and all manner of bacteria and virus killing solutions in the hope of stopping the plague the Beast transmits by way of its mouth from taking up residence within my being. So I am now off to ice my foot in the hopes of bringing down the swelling. I remain always;

Respectfully Yours,

The Lumpy

On Victory Parades and the Loss of My TV

Dear Mr. OR,

Last night was indeed a most disturbing night. I am now more afraid than I have been in quite some time. You see, last night, all the Beasts in our neighborhood, big and small, got together to show off their strength. My wife, who is often brainwashed by the Beast, had some understanding of what was about to happen and helped me to prepare.

As it turns out every October 31 the Beasts of our neighborhood dress in their conquering uniforms and lead their hosts around the town in a show of strength. They go door to door bringing their mind slaves with them and demand tribute in the form of small sweets from anyone in the neighborhood who does not have a Beast leading them around. It is my understanding that if one fails to pay the tribute then the Beasts will descend en mass and move into the home of the helpless victim.

At first I was somewhat skeptical thinking there could only be a dozen or so Beasts within our community who had managed to outwit their hosts. Why after all we men are a very resilient breed but as the hour grew late I began to become more and more concerned. My wife sent me to the store to buy lots of sweets in order to assure that we would be able to appease all the little monsters. She then busied herself with dressing the Beast in its own victory outfit. I was at first very much against this idea. I mean our Beast has not won. I would not be paraded about the town like the slave of this little demon! Then my wife explained that I would indeed not be paraded around the town but the marauding Beasts may feel the need to move in and help our Beast should it look as though our Beast were not in control. This made great sense to me as the sudden gain of a dozen Beasts attempting to help our Beast out would complicate my life exponentially and so I left my wife to her work and busied myself with the acquiring of sweet morsels.

I arrived home shortly my arms full of bags of candy which I piled high into a large stainless steal bowl. That way should one of the little monsters try to force its way into the house I could use the bowl as a bludgeon and send them back to the road. However; as the hour grew late I began to become very disturbed. A quick look out our window displayed significantly more than a dozen parading Beasts. There were Beasts everywhere walking up and down the streets in packs of fourteen or more. I began to wonder if they segregated themselves into groups in order to disparage the cannibalistic tendency of other Beasts not unlike the herds of Zebra do to help increase their chances of surviving lion attacks.

The first few visits went without incident although as I lowered the bowl to each Beast in turn they removed a gaping handful of sweets and it quickly became apparent that should this trend continue I would not have enough sweets to make it through the evening. As I looked outside and realized the immensity of the number of Beasts patrolling our street who would be moving into my happy home should I run out of sweets I became very concerned and began instantly raiding my house for anything I thought might appease the Beasts and still they kept coming. I gave them all of our sweets, and then the cookies my mother had baked for my wife and I. We then pulled out the Brownies my wife had made that afternoon. Finally I was handing out one pound bags of sugar. Having run out of those the next Beast got my TV set.

And they still kept coming. And so I did the only thing that I could do given the great onslaught. I slammed the door, turned out all of the lights, and ran down into my basement where I hid in the corner and pretended not to be home. It was a long and sleepless night and although none of the Beasts decided to move in they did take great pleasure in ringing our doorbell once every few minutes until nearly sunrise. And so I write to you today as a slightly shaken and very tired Lumpy. I remain always;

Respectfully yours,

The Lumpy