Lumpy's Oddyssey

A Second Invasion

2007-11-09T15:35:00.000-05:00

Dear Mr. OR,

I write to you now with a distinct feeling of déjà vu. My darling bride has once again informed me of a forthcoming invasion. It is apparent that my darling bride is quite concerned as she has taken to eating copious amounts of food and is beginning to show the bloating around the midsection that usually follows long bouts of compulsive eating. Her moods are often unpredictable which I believe to be a sign of depression. Indeed even her characteristic gait has changed from a strong self confident stride to a side to side shuffle giving her the appearance of a person carrying a large exceptionally heavy burden.

Needless to say I'm terribly concerned for her health and safety. To this end we have begun regular doctor visits to insure that my darling brides current despondency does not turn into something far more dangerous. I am; however, considering having her get a second opinion as no matter how many times I query her doctor about her alarming weight gain and new eating habits her doctor always insists that this is normal and healthy. Should her second opinion agree I will be going back to my diet of fried foods and pizza which was my regular fair before my darling bride decided that we needed to have a more balanced diet.

All of that aside my struggles with the Beast continue. I am happy to report that we have done a good job of teaching the Beast how to speak English although, as is true with most triumphs in this area, the Beast has turned this too its advantage. The Beast has learned to speak rather proficiently and now does so with such enthusiasm and efficiency of thought that it is impossible for anyone else in the house to carry on a conversation. Indeed it seams that as soon as a conversation is begun the Beast instantly appears and begins to yell at the top of its lungs the play by play of which ever event recently happened to it. Should the other participants of the conversation be particularly stubborn in the pursuing of their communicative goals the Beast will repeat itself, raising the decibel level each time, until all hope of getting a coherent idea from one individual to another is completely lost and all civilized individuals quit talking and are reduced to single syllable responses in the hopes that this will pacify the Beast. Indeed there is only one way for civilized individuals to find relief from the Beasts continual torrent of words and that falls to a single member of the Lumpy household. The family cat.

The appearance of the family cat is always met with mixed emotions. The first is relief as for a moment it may actually be possible for someone other than the Beast to carry on a conversation. The second is pity as we know the terror that the cat is about to face until it is able to find a place of relative safety and solitude.

There is much for me to relate to catch you up to where I am now; however, I am woefully low on paper and ink at the minute and in desperate need of household supplies from the local market. I will write more as soon as my meager reserves have been replenished.
I remain always;

Respectfully Yours,

The Lumpy

On Terrorism and Being Held Hostage

2006-06-05T14:52:00.000-04:00

Dear Mr. OR,

I have not written in nearly a month. This has primarily been due to the involvement of the Beast in very specific ways. It would seam that the Beast has been biding its time trying to lull me into a false sense of security and, by and large, it worked. On the evening of May 8th I was on my way home from a particularly draining day of box staring. I staggered into my house mumbling the usual hello to my darling bride and made my way to my writing table. Once properly seated I stared long and hard at my writing desk and the paper and pencil I've used to write to you on so many occasions but I could not for the life of me come up with anything to say.

You see the night before while I lie sleeping the Beast had wandered in and stolen my muse from my bedside table where I leave it at night while I'm sleeping. The next morning I woke up later than usual and in the ensuing rush simply did not notice that my muse was missing. Now that I was sitting at my desk I realized it was not there and so I went to look for it. I spent hours searching every nook and cranny and finally in desperation I headed for the basement thinking that perhaps it had been dragged down to the wash inside the pocket of my previously worn slacks. And that is precisely where I found it.

My muse sat cowering in the middle of the dirty laundry with The Beast standing over it. The Beast looking very smug held in its hand what appeared to be a very large handgun. As I watched The Beasts tiny little hands wobbled and it appeared as thought it might drop the weapon; however, upon my advance it quickly regained its control and held me at bay by threat of force. My advance halted it turned the weapon back towards my muse and began making what I can only assume was a very long list of demands. Unfortunately much of this was in Beastish and I was only able to pick out the few words here and there where the Beast would use a broken form of English.

The stand off went for days, both day and night, as the Beast spoke in firm sounding tones about something which required the frequent use of the letter L and included the word Milk. After which the Beast questioned me at length about Cheese and Ball. Finally nearly in tears from the stress of the situation the Beast broke down and spoke quiet sadly about its Mother whose name is apparently Lie-Lou. Finally after nearly a week with none of us having any sleep the Beast gave up and I regained my muse. However, In exchange for its peaceful return my muse required two weeks vacation to recover from its harrowing and traumatic experience.

And so for that time I have on a regular basis been going to my writing desk and staring longingly at my paper and pencil and writing nothing. And now with a great sense of relief I send you this communication. I remain always;

Respectfully Yours,

The Lumpy

On Flooding the Desert

2006-05-02T08:10:00.000-04:00

Dear Mr. OR,

It would appear that the Beast has picked up a rather unusual gift. Where the Beast managed to learn this gift I do not know. I can only speculate that it must have been on one of its late night cannibalistic outings with my wife. Perhaps it captured a small Beast which had infiltrated a Native American household and given the unfortunate victim its freedom in exchange for this gift. However the Beast came across it, I am now the proud owner of one Beast who is capable of doing a rain dance.

It usually begins with a slight bending of the knees followed by several deep bending motions while the legs piston up and down in unison, then a pause while the hands flail vigorously followed by more deep bends and leg pistoning. This goes on for several minutes until Presto! Rain!

The Beast apparently thinks this is a very neat trick indeed as it has been doing its new rain dance for several days now causing it to rain directly above my house with out seising for several days. Every time it starts to let up the Beast begins its dance again and down comes the rain harder than before.

I was not concerned about this at first as I don't much care to be outdoors due to some severe allergies to everything that is green. But I failed to see the real genius of the plan until I wandered into our basement to find someone had replaced it with a large dirty swimming pool. I quickly realized that the Beast was trying to drown me out. Alas the poor Beast underestimated the Lumpy’s resourcefulness. After a deep sea diving expedition conducted by canoe in my basement I was able to find our pump and get it working. The basement is no longer underwater and everything is beginning to dry out which is a relief to me as I'm not fond of death by drowning.

As I wait for things to finish drying out I have begun talks with several counties in Arizona who are very interested in purchasing some time with our talented Beast. They think with some help our Beast could be a great boon to their agricultural business. A price has not been set yet but I will let you know as soon as negotiations have been completed. I remain always;

Respectfully Yours,

The Lumpy

On Bowling for Books

2006-04-25T16:30:00.000-04:00

Dear Mr. OR,

The other night my darling bride and I made a trip to the mall. Now I'm not particularly fond of Malls as they are usually quite loud and full of busy, unhappy, pushy people and so I try to avoid them where possible. However, the Lumpy's darling bride had not been out of the house in quite some time and was expressing a strong desire to be amongst throngs of people so we bundled up the Beast and off we went. While at the Mall we ran into a small pet store. It is well known that the Lumpy's darling bride cannot see cute animals and simply pass by. This probably was as much to blame for the ease with which the Lumpy household was invaded by the Beast as was anything else. And so it wasn't long after we spotted the pet store that we were inside with my darling bride petting, and ogling every furry animal in sight. It is noteworthy that the Beast appeared to show the same weakness although it did look a bit ravenous while viewing the dachshunds. As this was going on I wandered aimlessly until I came across a very cleaver contraption. It was a large plastic ball that the attendant explained was used to give small animals exercise, not unlike one of those running wheels. You simply put the small animal into the ball and let the animal go where ever it would like. Well I must admit that my first thought was to buy a mouse and one of these balls as a make shift toy for the Lumpy's two cats. But then I mentally calculated the price of keeping the mouse fed and clean up of the inside of the ball on a regular basis and decided it was too much maintenance for a cat toy. It was not long before my synapses were firing again; however, and I realized that a larger ball would be an excellent way to keep the Beast from destroying everything in its path. To date the Beast typically makes our house a disaster by pulling down anything it can get its grubby little paws on. This ball would certainly prevent the Beast from reaching anything of importance. A brief inquiry quickly dashed all hopes of finding an adequately sized ball especially after pointing to the Beast when asked what size I was looking for. At this point the attendant became far less cooperative and I felt it would be best if my darling bride quit ogling the local wild life and departed for a more hospitable environment with me post haste. Although I had met this momentary setback I was not as of yet feeling like giving up. When Corporate America fails to provide; it is time for the industrious individual to engineer his own solution. And so I called my Brother who works in HVAC. He is well versed in all things metallic and a bit of a wizard with building things. A date was set and he arrived with all sorts of metal pipe, welders, soldering equipment etc. etc. First we would need to build a frame. This was precisely why I had called him and like any noble brother he came with just the thing. Flexible copper pipe. It took very little time to bend the pipe into several three foot diameter rings and weld the ends into a single piece. Next we wrapped both sides of our construct with heavy duty screen keeping it as spherical as we could manage and covered over all of the sharp edges with duct tape. We moved the cage ball into the house and my brother who was now late for a prior engagement took his leave while I wandered around the house looking for the Beast.

It was not long before I found her as she had left an extensive trail of debris for me to follow. And so I quickly took the Beast and placed it into the ball and closed the ball door. The Beast took to it immediately and it wasn't long before she had the whole thing rolling around the house at top speed. As I watched I noticed that the wake of destruction which the Beast usually leaves behind it was no longer present. I was so happy to see that another one of my plans had worked that I went to the kitchen to brew myself a victory coffee to celebrate. That was when I heard the crash.

Racing around the corner I saw the Beast happily sitting in its ball happy as could be. Covering the ball was a not so small mound of books. The Beast had run head long into my largest bookshelf and managed to collapse the entire structure. And so I leave you while I clean up the hundreds of books which still lay strewn around my floor. I remain always;

Respectfully Yours,

The Lumpy

On Beastish and Bears in My Bushes

2006-04-21T07:54:00.000-04:00

Dear Mr. OR,

It would seam that the Beast has under estimated the power of its own attacks. For the last week now my darling bride, myself, and the Beast have all been suffering the effects of the Beasts latest biological attack. In fact we are still under the influence of it even now. And so my days have consisted mostly of cleaning up the usual debris that tends to get strewn everywhere when a household is sick.

Meanwhile the Beast, although it is ill, has been wandering around the house in very high spirits. It slowly drags its rubber soles from semi clean area of the house to another leaving it standard wake of debris where ever it goes and all the while rambling to itself in its own beastish language. My wife and I have termed this B-speak and the Beast appears to be doing it far more often.

In fact the Beast speaks so much more freely lately that I was afraid it might be communicating to other Beasts just outside our windows. Ever since this though came to me I have been nervously checking the bushes outside of our house every chance I get but I have yet to see one of the Beasts little comrades ease dropping out there.

I have a particularly noisy door and these ease dropping Beasts must be running away as soon as they hear the door begin to open. Indeed I think once or twice now I have seen the hind side of Beast disappear around the corner of the house just as I managed to make my way out the door. Well this will never do. I can not have my Beast coordinating attacks right in front of me. Goodness knows if it is aloud to have such open and constant communication why... our whole neighborhood could be over run by this time next year!

And so this morning I rose up early and spread several bear traps just under the mulch behind the bushes. I'm sure to catch one now. And so I leave you while I check my traps and see if I have had any luck. I remain always;

Respectfully Yours,

The Lumpy

On the Beasts Rubber Soles

2006-04-17T07:50:00.000-04:00

Dear Mr. OR,

As I have mentioned in the past the Beast has begun to travel through my home with an alarming rate of speed. It is not unusual at any given moment to walk through a hallway or into a room and see a small blur go past at the level of ones knees. Now for any ordinary individual this could prove dangerous as the Beast attempts to get under foot and trip up whatever adult happens to be not paying attention. However; after years of owning cats both the Lumpy and his bride have become rather adept at avoiding these simple traps. Our guests have not. And so I began watching the Beast to see if I could find a way to slow it down.

I have noticed that the Beast has two forms of transportation which it uses. Hands and knees dragging feet behind for speed, I'm not sure how the Beast moves so fast when it must drag its feet but it does remarkably well, And standing upright when it needs to reach high places for greater destruction potential. Although lately we have seen the Beast try hands and feet a couple of times I am unconcerned as this form appears to remove the positives of the other two and adds no advantages.

My first attempt was to try the easy route and tie the Beast down; however, a recent visit by the Red Cross quickly destroyed any hopes of using this method over any length of time. And so I began brainstorming. What I really needed to do was to create friction on its back feet. The Beast was already dragging those so it would stand to reason that this would be a good place to attach a speed impediment. In fact they already were a speed impediment all I had to do was increase their effectiveness. What I needed was to encase them in rubber. It can be very difficult to drag rubber across smooth surfaces.

With this in mind I took off for the local store to pick up some large pieces of rubber and some duct tape. I returned a few hours later with several pieces of rubber I felt would be a good fit and with great skill managed to duct tape them to the Beasts hind feet. I am happy to say that the plan has thus far worked quite well. The Beast has slowed down significantly and is having difficulty moving at all while balanced on its hind legs. I share this with you as my first of what will hopefully be many successes. I remain always;

Respectfully Yours,

The Lumpy

On Dear and Moose and the Ways of the Wild

2006-04-12T08:52:00.000-04:00

Dear Mr. OR,

The Lumpys darling bride has always enjoyed celebration. She scarcely needs an excuse to have a party. So when the somewhat inappropriate occasion of the anniversary of the Beast infiltrating our home was upon us my wife quickly began preparations for a celebration. As for my part I've learned to stay out of her way when these things happen as somehow any involvement on my part makes every misfortune a direct result of my presence. And so when she told me I shrugged and began to fortify myself for the inevitable trials that would be forth coming.

As I went through the many ways in which I could survive this ordeal the one that sat at the top of my list was to barricade myself in my study and not leave until the danger had passed. This had a few drawbacks. First it left my wife all alone with a bunch of cannibalistic animals. Second it did not allow me to gather useful information about Beast behavior that I might be able to exploit later and third it provided an excellent opportunity for others to drop by with their Beasts and leave with out them. Well this would obviously never do. And so on the day of the party I built up my courage, put in some ear plugs, and anxiously sat at the door awaiting the arrival of twice as many people as my lovely home could comfortably fit.

Having successfully packed my house so full of people that it was impossible for anyone to sit down due to lack of room I pushed, shoved, and crawled my way over to where the Beasts were congregated. Upon arrival I noticed a few of the larger Beasts appeared to be Male. Now although I am not fond of television I did own one for a time and would often watch documentaries and nature programming, the only two areas that could hold my interest. I noticed instantly that there appeared to be some kind of mating ritual going on. The largest male beasts were both pushing and shoving and generally trying to wrestle each other into submission not unlike the wild moose and dear during the mating season. Well at first I wasn’t sure why so I quit watching the fighting Beasts and looked around. It was only then that I noticed my Beast. Sitting quietly watching the male Beasts with great interest. With great horror I realized that my Beast must be female. I couldn’t control myself, I panicked. I quickly grabbed my beast and ran screaming from the room knocking people over as I ran. If my Beast were permitted to produce offspring then I would never again be the master of my house.

It wasn’t long until my wife found me and blaming the mass exodus of people on my actions sent me to my study where I have spent a great deal of time gathering my thoughts and trying to calm down enough to write you this letter. I remain always;

Respectfully Yours,

The Lumpy

On Preparation and Days Long Past

2006-04-07T08:08:00.000-04:00

Dear Mr. OR,

The preparations for this weekend have begun in the lumpy household. You see one year ago today my wife rolled over to me in bed and informed me that we needed to go to the hospital. For about nine months my wife had been suffering from a strange bloating disease that the Doctors were unable to find a cure for but insisted would disappear on its own. Disappear on its own or not it occasionally caused my wife a great deal of pain and this time she felt the pain was bad enough that we should visit the hospital immediately. So I hurriedly dragged myself out of bed, got dressed, stuffed my wife in the car and off we went. It was well we were at the hospital that the Beast invaded our house. If only I had known then what I know now.

My wife was released from the hospital after a couple of days; her bloating much more under control and already on the retreat due to the excellent work of the doctors and nurses. I was amazed at the amount of water my wife had passed while there. And so we headed home.

Upon opening the door to the house we were immediately met by a small pink fleshy bundle curled up on floor. I must admit that at first I was taken in by the cute appearance of the Beast. It wasn't until sometime later that I came to realize the mistake that I had made. My wife who is an absolute sucker for anything that is cute, pink, and small immediately asked if she could keep it. I was not so sure but given her recent ordeal I did not feel as though I could disappoint her and so the Beast gained its foothold in my household. In a matter of days the Beast had established control over my darling bride with its mind control tricks and was beginning to turn it's attentions onto me.

And so my wife is preparing to celebrate the one year anniversary of the Beasts arrival and I am looking for any opportunity to snag the Beast that shall present itself or at the least another opportunity to compare notes with other men who find themselves in the same situation. Should I find anything interesting I will of course share my notes. I remain always;

Respectfully Yours,

The Lumpy

On the Wrong Side of the Law

2006-04-04T16:36:00.000-04:00

Dear Mr. OR,

It would seem that I am a criminal. Or at least a legal deviant.

I was sitting in the bathroom two nights ago reading a book while my darling bride bathed the Beast; an activity I don't take an active role in as I hope that lack of adequate personal hygiene may prompt the Beast to seek more suitable environs. My wife on the other hand refuses to leave the Beast in its filth and though I don't agree I will not actively restrain her from the activity either as a previous attempt nearly resulted in the soiling of my favorite reading chair. So as my wife bathed the Beast I sat and watched hoping for a clue that would finally swing the occupation in my favor allowing me to oust the manipulative intruder.

Sitting there watching the Beast splash and make a watery mess of the area all around it I realized that the Beast truly enjoys water. Perhaps the Beasts origin is a place of great wide open watery spaces. I could picture Beasts of all shapes and sizes frolicking and splashing in watery swamps not unlike little Alligators in Georgia. Then it occurred to me.

I remember reading about some people in an email who had flushed an alligator down the toilet and the alligator had been found happily running around in the sewage system some time later. The fact that the Alligator had grown to enormous proportions did not escape my thoughts; however, the point is that, the Alligator neither returned to its original home nor did it hurt anyone as no one that I am aware of lives in the sewer system.

After its bath my wife handed me the Beast to dry it off. An activity I typically engage in strictly to keep my house from the water damage that would be incurred should the Beast be left to air dry as it wandered around destroying everything in its path. As my wife left the room I put my newly formed plan into action. I quickly placed the Beast in the toilet and flushed. And flushed. And FLUSHED. To no avail. The Beast stared at me smiling maliciously as it splashed and played in the swirling water as if to rub in my defeat.

This only strengthened my resolve. And so I grabbed the Beast from its personal whirlpool, wrapped it in the towel and made a run for the door. Out in the street I quickly found a man-hole cover and with great effort hoisted it into the street. So intent was I on getting the cover open that I did not notice the police car until after he had turned on his lights effectively stopping me with the Beast in mid air over the gaping hole.

It took a great deal of persuasion and discussion to keep the officer from handcuffing and taking me to the station. It turns out it is illegal to drop Beasts into the sewage system in my town. My guess is that they must grow to such enormous proportions that they clog the sewage system. The officer did; however, give me a ticket for removing a man-hole cover without a license. I was not aware that I needed one. And so I write to you in my free time as I wait to pay my fine. I remain always;

Respectfully Yours,

The Lumpy

On Ending Cannibalism

2006-03-31T08:28:00.000-05:00

Dear Mr. OR,

The Beast is without a doubt a carnivore. This had already been established since we know that the Beast is cannibalistic in nature; however, I purposed to change the Beasts eating habits after waking several times to the feel of little teeth nibbling at my toes. As the Beast is getting larger by the day I fear that before very long it would be large enough that by the time I awoke it would be too late and I would be just another feast for its fiendish appetite. This of course would never do.

And so my darling bride and I began changing the Beasts diet from gruel to standard fair in the hopes that if the Beast is full it would not feel the need to forage for its food much the same as a full lion or alligator will not hunt. It was during this testing that I made a big mistake.

I have not as of yet found the time to install the zip lines in my house that I think will eventually become necessary. If you have never seen these contraptions the general idea is to tie some rope up high from point A to point B and then chain the Beast to it. This way the Beast can traverse the house but can not get into any of my precious books, several of which have already succumbed to the Beasts destructive nature. As I was saying I haven't had time to install the zip lines and made the mistake of turning my back on my darling bride while she was delivering the Beasts Food. When I returned to the kitchen I was shocked to find the wife giving the Beast a very sugary confection at the end of its meal.

I have never been a fan of the summer Olympics but for the next few hours I knew exactly what it was like to run in the long distance events as the Beast dashed with great glee from one household treasure to another ripping, tearing, and biting everything as it went. I ran nervously behind it grasping for anything I could save and hurriedly putting it out of reach. Even my darling bride got into the action although not until it became apparent that I wasn't going to remove the Beast from the cupboard which contains our bleach. And so I write to you a very exhausted Lumpy. I remain always;

Respectfully Yours,

The Lumpy

On Psychological Warfare And The Shrugging of the Shoulders

2006-03-28T09:38:00.000-05:00

Dear Mr. OR,

So much has happened since I was last able to sit and send you a note. In fact too much has happened for me to give a complete synopsis within this letter. So we shall pick an item each time until we are back up to speed. Let’s see...

The Beast has begun learning the primary tool of psychological warfare. Where the Beast acquired the knowledge for this new attack I do not know as I am not a government operative. I can only assume that it has been reading up on the subject during the long visits to the library which the Beast is constantly taking my wife on. And so it is with profound displeasure that I report the Beast has begun to speak.

As in all such cases the Beast began with gestures of defiance. I believe it began this way in order to test its control over my wife. Indeed I observed with alarm as my wife told the Beast not to do something and the Beast turned around and vigorously shook its head left to right. Well I dare say that the Beast was unhappy with the outcome as my wife promptly made sure that the Beast could not complete its activity. However, as time has passed I noticed that my wife would not as often keep the Beast from doing things she had told it not too and now when the Beast shakes its head my wife simply shrugs her shoulders and lets the Beast go about its business. Very disturbing indeed.

For example. The Beast has taken to protesting about the food we have been feeding it. It would seem that as the Beast gains a more permanent foot hold it begins to make demands. It is content only for as long as it has to be and so when it has decided that it doesn't like something, such as its food, it deposits it upon the floor by way of flinging the item or substance as far from itself as it can. Picking up the item and returning it to the Beast results in an endless round robin of wills to see who will cave first. I tested this once to get a better idea of what I was dealing with. After two hours of returning an item to the Beast only to have it throw the item back to the floor I finally gave up in despair and went to my study to read some George Elliot.
It would seam that I have my work cut out for me.
I remain always;

Respectfully Yours,

The Lumpy

On Comas and Returns

2006-03-24T17:07:00.000-05:00

Dear Mr. OR,

I must once again give an apology for my lack of correspondence. You see I was typically able to correspond during a few free moments I was able to obtain between intense sessions of box staring. However; that time has been removed from my day and as all of my free time at home has been taken up with contending with the Beast I have had precious little time for correspondence.

Indeed I have had precious little time for anything other than box starring of late. You see there is a new craze in the world of box staring that demands that a person meditate on the way that their box looks. Well for quite some time now it has been a notable fact that the Lumpy is above average when it comes to anything that requires intense mental focus to the exclusion of any outside stimulus. And so I went after this latest technique with vigor.

When my taskmasters noticed my innate abilities in this area they accelerated my program and before I knew what had happened I had achieved a state of hyper-meditation so closely resembling a coma that even my physician began to become suspicious.

I have recently resurfaced from this state several pounds lighter and very bewildered about the state of all things involving calendars, schedules, and the passage of time. As my apatite returns to me and I find myself once again functioning on the cognitive plain I have begun to carve out a little piece of time outside of work where I can once again correspond on a regular basis. Wish me luck dear friends and we should be in regular touch.

Respectfully yours,

The Lumpy

P.S. In all seriousness I've been absent due to pressures at my job that have required my full attention. I do intend to be back on a regular schedule here again and would like to thank those of you crazy enough to keep checking this once active blog in the hopes of its Phoenix like rebirth. Special thank you’s to Susie, Marti, Toad, and My wife for your encouragement and diligents in requesting my return.

On Christmas

2005-12-22T08:26:00.000-05:00

Dear Mr. OR,

Well it is that time of year again. The winter snows have come in, people are running around shopping, and I am feeling charitable even towards the Beast. And so as we begin our celebration of the birth of Jesus Christ I have lessened my antagonism toward the Beast and allowed the Beast to participate in some of the family rituals. Never fear I shall return to my usual torture and abuse as soon as the holiday has passed. And so...

Just a few days ago my darling bride and I decided it was time for us to engage in one of our regular holiday traditions. It is one that many families engage in. Every year we decide that our living room looks far too sparse and barren and the only way to remedy the situation is to erect a large tree in the middle of it. I am not sure if it is my years of playing in tree forts as a young man that makes me desire to turn my living room into a miniature forest or if it goes back to our nomadic ancestors who simply could not leave the woods behind. Never the less, for as far back as I can remember, I have wandered out of my house around this time of year driven by the urge to procure for myself the wily and elusive pine tree.

After an hour of screaming and pushing and shoving we managed to get the Beast into a large padded suit designed to keep the little monster from getting frostbite, a situation the Red Cross would most certainly have a few things to say about, and headed out to our local tree farm. Perhaps near you trees grow out in the open in places you refer to as forests but around here we have cut down the forests to make room for large bovine resorts and spas and so must grow our trees on farms like chickens.

When we arrived I strapped the Beast to my back, as its current protective clothing kept it as immovable as a straight jacket would, and we headed off to find the perfect tree. After passing the Palm, Elm, Oak, and Cherry trees we came to the section labeled Pine. Once in the pine section we were greeted with a very sad site. All of the pine trees were Beast sized.

Well this would never do. A Beast sized tree could not create sufficient visual weight to feel like an entire forest in ones living room and so we were forced to go back to the elm section where they had trees of a more appropriate stature. After borrowing an axe, chopping down the tree and strapping it to my car we were on our way home singing all the way. And so I leave you to head for my garage and get a ladder with which to hang ornaments. I remain always;

Respectfully Yours,

The Lumpy

The Lumpys Wife

2005-12-09T15:43:00.000-05:00

Dear Mr. OR,

I beg your patience as I am about to depart from my usual manor in these letters for a moment in order to focus on another part of my life. You see twenty-eight years ago a magical thing occurred which I would like to share with you. My wife came into this world. Although I have asked her many times how this event took place she insists that she does not remember and can not explain the process to me. However, given the amount of patience she exhibits and how she treats those around her I have a theory.

My theory is that the good Lord sitting up above began observing me and how I interacted with my surroundings. The Lumpys self destructive nature is the stuff of legends where he is from and has led him into a life style of book reading and coffee drinking as it is hard for one to do substantial damage to themselves while engaging in these activities. It is; however, difficult to keep relationships with other people when the total of your time is spent in these two activities not to mention the fact that conversation soon becomes almost as fascinating as staring at a box for eight hours a day. Couple this with the Lumpys general forgetfulness and it would appear that you have an excellent applicant for eternal bachelor and hermit. Well this may be wonderful for many gentlemen out there but the Lumpys continual battle with loneliness would have put him on the fast tract to continual depression.

And So the good Lord looked down and decided that this would never do for the Lumpy. He then found a very board spirit of such patience and virtue that it would be impossible to test it beyond its limits. He wrapped this spirit in the same dust he used to form Adam and poof my wife came into the world.

Soon after my wife’s worldly training had been accomplished she was sent to me and the usual courtship ensued in a way suiting individuals of the Lumpy and his wife’s caliber. And today my friends is her birthday. Now a birthday with the Lumpy is never complete unless there are some problems and so we get to the last few weeks.

As you may have noticed my letters have slowed down as of late. This is do to the fact that I now have very little spare time. I am now forced to stare at my box more intently than ever and often times have had to stare at it after I would usually leave in order to fulfill my quota. This has kept me from being able to go shopping for the Wife’s birthday. And so between that and a bank account issue I only ordered her gifts three days ago. Which means she will receive no gifts until after her birthday.

My time spent at home has been comprised of taking care of one catastrophe after another and just this morning we managed to break the faucet off of our only shower/bathtub. This makes it impossible for the Lumpys to bathe. Thus my wife will not be going anywhere for her birthday as I will be re-plumbing our bathroom. Yet with all of this she has not complained or gotten upset with me or even circumstances. The Lumpys wife is a Saint and her husband knows it.

I love you dear.

The Lumpy

On Camouflage

2005-11-30T17:32:00.000-05:00

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

2005-11-23T07:43:00.000-05:00

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

2005-11-18T08:00:00.000-05:00

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

2005-11-15T08:12:00.000-05:00

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

2005-11-08T07:43:00.000-05:00

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

2005-11-04T07:55:00.000-05:00

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

2005-11-01T07:48:00.000-05:00

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

On the Zoo and Getting Rich

2005-10-28T07:59:00.000-04:00

Dear Mr. OR,

As you are aware the Beast has been learning the manners of our cats over the last few weeks. Where as The Beast has not yet learned the cats way of getting around the house it has become very apparent that the Beast is trying. It has also begun growing a set of strong sharp claws. It has already used these claws in a most unforgiving manner against my person. While my wife and I were tending to my wounds it occurred to me that the Beast has become more like the large cats found in Africa than like the small house cats we have at home. I believe this for several reasons. First the Beast lies around in shady places most of the day not unlike lions at watering holes. Second the Beast growls continually at everything around it. Its growl has grown very loud not unlike the roar of a lion. Third the Beast has a set of very large claws that it can use to tear the flesh of its prey just like a lion does.

As I was pondering these ideas I came to the understanding that people pay good money to go to the zoo and see lions. Naturally I began to wonder if people would pay to go to the zoo and see the Beast. Of course they would. The Beast has all the elements required for a good zoo display. The Beast is dangerous, aggressive, has lovely rare fur. Why I'll bet I would make a killing. And so I set about building my exhibit. First I modified some of the barred cells that I still have from laying around from the time I put the Beast in solitary confinement. I made them more spacious so it would appear the Beast had room to roam. Something that I am sure is more illusion than true as every zoo I have ever been too the animals never move more than five feet in any direction. This was accomplished quickly and insured that I would not have to suffer a law suit from the P.E.T.A.. I then whipped up some signs using spray paint that gave a brief description of the Beast and another one asking patrons not to the feed the Beast.

I now felt ready and confident in my new venture. Indeed I could nearly feel the money in my pocket as I'm sure such a unique exhibit would make me rich quite quickly. Upon putting the Beast in the cage however I quickly became aware of just how good a reach the Beast has with its claws. That would never do. Images of what could happen if an elderly person stumbled within reach of the Beasts vicious grasp filled my head causing me to shudder uncontrollably. And then I had a wonderful Idea. All I needed to do was to cap the Beasts claws. With lightning speed I rounded up the handyman’s favorite tool, duct tape, and a pair of my old socks. I put a sock on each of the Beasts hands duct taping them securely around the Beasts arms and presto! instant disarmed Beast. I have now begun selling tickets at my front door and am waiting for my first customer and should you drop by I will of course let you in at a discounted price. I remain always;
Respectfully yours,

The Lumpy

On Cats and Becoming Wary

2005-10-25T07:51:00.000-04:00

Dear Mr. OR,

During my usual observations of the Beast this week I have learned some new and interesting facts. First and foremost the Beast has a hostile and aggressive attitude. Yes as an infiltrator in my household I knew that the Beast was hostile towards me already but I did not realize the level of hostility it has to all manner of life around it. As you know it is cannibalistic, and at several occasions I have seen it try to feast upon either myself or my wife. Lately; however, it has even begun to show aggression towards the Lumpy’s cats.

Perhaps I have never mentioned it before but the Lumpy has two lovely and very amiable cats. They are very loving with the Lumpy and his darling bride but do not; however, get along with each other. And so on any given day the Lumpy can find some entertainment watching the cats growling and chasing each other throughout the Lumpy's residence. The Beast has gone out of its way to learn the sounds that the cats make and has begun growling repeatedly at the cats as well as the Lumpy and his wife to show how much the Beast dislikes us. Indeed it seams that the Beast dislikes everyone it meets as it seams to growl at and attempts to eat everyone who comes in contact with it.

I have also noticed that the Beast is becoming increasingly wary of me. Every time I attempt to take the Beast off of my wife’s hands for a second or two the Beast immediately begins yelling and then increases its mind control powers upon my wife until she takes the Beast back. This has resulted in little time alone with the Beast with which to continue my studies. Indeed I have had several attempts foiled recently in this manner. And so I will be biding my time over here in my favorite chair reading a book until further developments. I remain always;

Respectfully Yours,

The Lumpy

On Fish Swimming Upstream

2005-10-21T07:56:00.000-04:00

Dear Mr. OR,

Given the last few weeks events and the Beasts newest attack I felt it was high time I did some experimentation. Especially after being warned by so many people that the Beast is likely to unleash more biological attacks in the future. So with this in mind I set out to discover what delivery method the Beast was using for transfer of the disease from itself to my wife and me.

The first thing I needed to do was send my wife out of the house without the Beast. This as it turns out was a very easy task. Perhaps the virus had weakened the Beasts mind control over her. And so with a quick request for a few things and an offer to take care of the Beast my wife ran for the door quicker than I have seen her move in months and was gone.

Delighted by the ease of this success I immediately grabbed the Beast and began my observations. I turned the Beast this way, then that, picked the Beast up, flipped it upside-down. After this brief search I pondered again the clear goo that the Beast seams to constantly produce and a thought came to my head nearly instantly. The goo would make an excellent transfer mechanism for a biological weapon. Both my wife and I had gotten the goo on us just prior to being sick and there were goo spots all over the house. My mind full of my new hypothesis I began to put a plan in action for gathering of goo samples that I could then test for the presence of biological entities.

I made my way to the garage dragging the Beast and a chair behind me. Once in the garage I strapped the Beast to the chair. It must have realized its danger then because it immediately began making tons of noise but not even noise could pull me from the deep focus I'd found in beginning this experiment. I ran to the corner and found my industrial strength shop vac and plugged it in. Pulled the duct tape off of the top shelf and with lightning quick speed I had the end of the vacume duct tapped to the Beasts mouth. With great glee I flipped the switch and was surrounded by the hum of a vacume cleaner doing its job. I took a peak at the Beast whose eyes had grown larger than I remember ever seeing them before. I inspected the tube to make sure that the goo was being harvested in ample quantities and was amazed to see the Beasts tongue flapping back and forth in its mouth like a little fish swimming upstream against a mighty current. I was so fascinated that I failed to hear my wife walking in through the door behind me.

With a shrill shriek she flipped the switch and yanked the hose from the Beasts mouth dripping some of the goo on my work table. I quickly got a dish for the goo to drain in and then turned to face my wife but by that time both she and the Beast had disappeared into the bowels of our home. My goo collected; it is time for me to find some testing kits as I appear to be freshly out of them so I stored the Beast goo in the fridge and retired to the living room where I could curl up with a good book. I have seen neither my wife nor the Beast since my wife came home but I'm hoping to see them soon as I am hungry and it is nearly time for supper. I remain always;

Respectfully yours,

The Lumpy

On Biological Warfare take two

2005-10-18T07:55:00.000-04:00

Dear Mr. OR,

I am happy to inform you that both my darling bride and I have come out of the Beasts latest attack unscathed. As we are both feeling considerably better I have had some time to think about what may have happened and I think I now know how the Beast managed to pull off this astounding attack.

My darling bride and I regularly attend a not-so-local-church service. At our church are several other couples who have been invaded by little Beasts of their own. Every Sunday prior to the service beginning we stand out in the hall and draw straws to see which two adults will have to play jailor to the Beasts and make sure that they don’t try and kill us all by setting the building on fire or something equally horrible. Although I was not chosen this night the Lumpy has been chosen in the past and I can tell you that it is a horrible job. It is nearly impossible to watch all of the Beasts at the same time and the noise... Why I nearly lost my sanity on the night which I was chosen.

What I think happened is that the Beasts waited until they were only being watched by their jailors and then they set up a diversion. While the jailors were distracted one of the other Beasts helped our Beast infect itself with the awful disease. Why would it do that? Why not just infect us? Good questions. I have not, although I have tried, been able to find any syringes anywhere in our house or the church. This means that the disease and the disease immunization must be taken orally. The Beast must have realized that there is no way it was going to be able to make me take a virus filled pill. Not even with my wife’s help. Given that homeland security would most likely look very unfavorably upon the Beast firing a missile or using some kind of detonating device; the Beast was not left with many options. The Beast does not appear to be naturally immune to the virus as it seamed quite under the weather for a few days; although, the Beasts rapid recovery makes me believe that it was hiding an immunization pill someplace on its person and was able to take it after observing my wife and myself succumbing to the virus.

I am happy to announce, again, that my darling bride and I have survived. My wife is no longer showing any ill effects and I am left only with a cough which I have reason to believe is getting better. I shall continue my inquirery into how this could happen and report my findings. I remain always;

Respectfully yours,

The Lumpy

On Biological Warfare

2005-10-11T08:02:00.000-04:00

Dear Mr. OR,

I suppose it was only a matter of time. The Beast has unleashed its most fearsome weapon yet. It appears that the Beast came upon a Biological weapon. Now luckily it does not appear to be Anthrax or anything so nasty but everyone who resides at the Lumpy Residence has contracted an illness that makes the head feel as though it is going to explode from being packed with too much cotton and the body feel as though it is wrapped in a heating pad set to char broil. Having relayed this info I am off to mix up another cocktail of drugs that I'm hoping will eventually burn the bug out of us. I will send my next letter as soon as I am well. I remain always;

Respectfully yours,

The Lumpy

On Wetsuits and Cannibals

2005-10-07T07:59:00.000-04:00

Dear Mr. OR,

I regret to report that the Beasts goo making abilities appear to be getting worse with time. Why every time my wife wipes its face it is only seconds before the Beast is soaked in the substance again. This only strengthens my current conviction that the Beast comes from a very moist environment. I have noticed, due to a very unpleasant incident in which my wife required that I assist her by holding the beast for a few minutes, that when this substance gets on clothing the clothing becomes very uncomfortable to wear. So as I'm sitting there in my rather sticky and uncomfortable Beast soaked clothing I began to put my mind to work on how I could forever keep my clothing and the Beasts' goo separate. I'm almost ashamed to admit that it took me several minutes to come up with a solution. The answer was easy. Wetsuits. I remember reading that wetsuits are designed to trap a layer of water inside of them which warms up due to the person’s body temperature and helps insulate the person wearing it.

So with this in mind I strapped the Beast down grabbed the wife and off we went to the local surf shop. Upon entering I knew I was in for a challenge. The young man at the counter across from the door spotted me almost instantly. Before I knew what had happened I was run over by a barrage of words about this product and that item and how they even had surf boards for the Beast. My first thought was that a surf board for the Beast may not be a bad idea as I hear they look like tempting morsels to marauding sharks. Then I remembered how there aren't really many sharks around here and it would probably take way to long to get the Beast attacked as sending it out to sea with a dead tuna strapped around its leg would probably look rather suspicious when the police officers investigated.

With as much patience as I could muster, as the clerk was still attempting to sell me his entire inventory, I explained that we were just there to buy a wetsuit for the Beast. It would appear that I had hit the jackpot. They had any surfing gear you could ever want in this store, I know because the clerk told me four times in three minutes, but it turns out they did not have a Beast size wetsuit. Ok, we'll take the next size up I said. And when all was said and done I walked out of the store with, my wife, the Beast, a lighter wallet, and a me sized wetsuit. Oh well. It will do. I told myself on the furious drive home. And it has indeed. The Beast is now the proud wearer of the latest in surfing fashion.

And so encouraged by that success I went on to attempt one more item for the day. For some time now I have been attempting to figure out the Beasts language by watching it while it interacts with other infiltrators. However, I have been foiled in large part because I do not get to observe the Beast during these encounters for more than a few minutes at a time. Well after observing a few duck hunters during my last hunting excursion a possible answer came to me. Perhaps if I were to set the Beast up with a decoy. And so for the second time today I went to the store. This time my purchase was easy and I was home with my decoy not long after I had left. Upon my arrival I quickly found my wife, explained my intentions, and dragged her and the Beast into the living room where I would be able to study the Beast at length without foregoing any of the comforts that my modest dwelling has to offer.

Well at first the Beast simply stared at the decoy but after a while it started in with it's Beastly language and I began recording the conversation phonetically. The conversation seamed to go quite well for a few seconds. The Beast even made a joke, I assume, because the Beast burst into peals of giggly laughter. And then without warning the Beast reached out its clawed hand, grasped the decoy by its hair, shoved the decoys face into its mouth, and immediately began to chew. I was so disturbed that I removed the decoy with out thinking thereby ruining my own experiment. It had never occurred to me that the Beast might be cannibalistic. It still gives me a shudder. And so I put the Beast back in its wetsuit and deposited it with my wife. I'm not sure where they have gone off too but perhaps they are hunting other Beasts around the neighborhood. My wife and the Beast working as a gruesome pair from some old horror movie chasing down slower wives and Beasts in order to feed on them. Although this may bode well after all. If I find some stronger Beasts perhaps they will eat my Beast and I shall finally be in the clear. I have a lot of planning to do. I shall write shortly and inform you of my endeavors. Until then I remain always;

Respectfully yours,

The Lumpy

On Oceans and Burritos

2005-10-04T08:05:00.000-04:00

Dear Mr. OR,

I have recently had a discovery. In keeping with the principles of the scientific method I have begun to monitor the Beast. This should allow me to predict its movements and also to learn why it does some of the things it does. It was with this in mind that I found myself sitting in my favorite chair pretending to read a book while my wife and the Beast were both lounging on a blanket in the middle of our floor. The Beast was making its usual gurgling sound. The latest in a string of sounds the Beast has been making and my wife was reading a book and watching the Beast at the same time. How she manages to do this I do not know. My darling bride has always been able to pay attention to more than one thing at a time and no matter how many times she shows me how to do it I am completely incapable of this feet.

Well the longer I sat watching the Beast the more convinced I became; the Beast comes from some place very wet. Like a swamp, or an ocean, or perhaps even Venus. I can never be sure as my searches through National Geographic have, as of yet, not turned up any articles showing where these little monsters come from. I came to this conclusion because the Beast seams to require that its skin stay moist. To this end it makes a constant stream of water like goo within its mouth which it then sticks its hands into and shortly there after wipes all over anything that is within reach including itself. Anything we put the Beast in eventually looks as though it has recently been sprayed with water from a fire hose. I also noticed that whenever we attempt to place the Beast on its stomach it almost immediately begins a swimming type motion not all that different from a frogs swimming motion. Both legs come up together and then thrust violently down and together at the same time while the head stays very high in the air. I would assume this is to keep the head above the waves so that the Beast can breathe.

I was so intent on these thoughts that I forgot I was supposed to look as though I was reading. Well the Beast looked over at me and must have realized what I was doing as it grabbed hold of the blanket it was seated on and began rolling over and over until it had wrapped itself into a tight burrito shaped cocoon. At first I was fascinated by this reaction; however, my wife was less than pleased. With a yell about the Beast not being able to breathe she immediately removed the Beast from its shell and took the Beast into the other room. And so here I sit with nothing better to do than to read the book I had been pretending to read in the first place. I remain always;

Respectfully Yours,

The Lumpy

On UFOs, and How I Ended UP Making Dinner

2005-09-28T08:09:00.000-04:00

Dear Mr. OR,

We have found a wonderful tool. While out looking through shops filled with clothing for Beasts or old womens' small dogs, I'm not sure which, my darling bride and I happened upon a wonderful invention. It was tucked away amongst many torture devices and plastic Beast sealing kits. It is a large plastic UFO shaped device with a hole in the top that would make it resemble a doughnut if the hole went all the way through. The top is then covered with multiple gadgets and gizmos. At first I wasn't sure what it was. So I went to ask the attendant.

The attendant, a short pleasant women of about seventeen years of age, informed us that it was a Beast containment unit. You put the Beast in the hole and the Beast will sit and try to use the gadgets and gizmos on top and in so doing will leave you blissfully alone. Why would the Beast content itself with messing with some do dads on a UFO? I can only assume that it is because they resemble some sort of device from where ever the Beast comes from. Then it hit me. The designer must have been there to find out what these devices should look like. I looked all over the box to see if I could find the designers name but alas it was not on the box. I will be writing to the company shortly.

Unwilling to let this temporary set back steal my great excitement at finding such a brilliant piece of modern workmanship I quickly agreed to purchase it and my wife and I ran home to try it out. After dismissing the Beasts temporary jailer, a family member who was all too eager to play jailer to the Beast, I began assembling our new Beast containment unit or BCU for short. The BCU was easy to put together and everything was done before I had a chance to finish a cup of coffee and both my wife and I were ready to try it out. Happily we placed the Beast in the hole at the middle of the BCU and then the doorbell rang.

I slowly walked to the door watching over my shoulder all the while to see what the Beast may unwittingly reveal as it attempted to use the gadgets on top of the BCU. But before I could get there who should burst through the door but my in laws from the red cross. The usual pleasantries were exchanged and my wife and I both showed them our brand new BCU without hesitation. How very surprised I was to see that they were not delighted but instead they pulled out a notepad and began writing something they would not let me see. Next thing I knew I was nearly drowning in questions about disease possibilities, and how had the Beast been acting of late, does it seam lethargic, is it getting proper nutrition, when was the last time I had brought it over to see them. I answered each question in turn at the end of which I was feeling rather worn out and apprehensive about what was to happen next.

Well it turns out that before a Beast uses BCU that originated from an unknown origin the Beast requires some kind of immunization shots. I attempted to explain that the Beast was just leaving and so whatever disease it may have just acquired would not have time to make it into circulation but the withering look I received made it clear that this was no excuse. Just like a kitten, dog, or any other animal the Beast is susceptible to some diseases that can easily become dangerous to humans and therefore, regardless of the Beasts time of departure, the Beast must be inoculated for the well being of the populous. And so off I went to call the vet and make the appointment.

The vet informed me that they do not work on Beasts and that I would have to make an appointment with the hospital. The hospital upon hearing what was needed set us up with an appointment which my wife kept. When I returned to my place of residence that day I found my wife looking as though she had just run twelve miles and then taken on the entire Nazi army single handedly. The deafening roar coming from across the house instantly told me all that I needed to know. And so I retired to the kitchen to prepare a meal that upon attempted consumption did very little to improve my wifes mood. Never the less, with great restraint, my wife remained pleasant and sent me to my study. Why she did this I do not know but as it is the quietest place in the house I was not unhappy about the decision and all but skipped and danced on my way there. I remain always;
Respectfully yours,

The Lumpy

On Poker and Being Handcuffed to a Couch

2005-09-26T08:15:00.000-04:00

Dear Mr. OR,

I have begun to believe that there is a counter culture or resistance that is building against what appears to be the ever constant invasion of our homes by The Beast and its friends. Yes indeed I have lately heard of many a poker table surrounded with men just like me discussing and trading torture techniques in the hope that one of us has the answer that will send The Beasts home and return our darling brides and homes back to us. I think the psychiatrist I saw was indeed a member of this resistance.

Upon having my eyes opened to the fact that the Beast really does exist I realized as well that the Psychiatrist had made a grave error in his diagnosis of me. But now that I look back on it that seams absurd as well. I mean here is a man who has spent years diagnosing people with all sorts of mental illnesses, trained in the top schools of our time, and gainfully employed in The Lumpy's home city. Now, a man who gives bad psychological advice does not stay gainfully employed for very long. It was upon this realization that I made my discovery. Indeed when the facts don't make sense there is usually a hidden agenda involved. This Psychiatrist must be part of the resistance and was trying to help me rid myself of the Beast by giving me the means through which to do it. How? By ignoring the Beast. By making sure that the Beast does not receive attention.

I've heard that prisoners in solitary confinement sometimes go crazy. Certainly the Beast if faced with the prospect of going mad would leave through its own volition. But how to achieve this? The wife is constantly around the Beast. In fact, as I mentioned previously, I was at one time worried that the Beasts bottom had grown into my wife’s hip. I'm relieved to say that it has not. I would need to give my wife my wallet. This seams to be the only fool proof way to get my wife out of the house without the Beast following behind her. Although I shall have to be careful to make sure she leaves the Beast as the last time was a disaster.

Without pause I put my plan into action. Handing over, somewhat apprehensively, my wallet to my wife and offering to watch the Beast. This action merited me a kiss which put me in such a mood that it was several minutes after my wife had left before I remembered the real reason I had sent her away and began my work. First I would need a cell. No problem. Amongst our other torture devices my wife had me buy to prepare for the invasion were several different barred cells. I quickly assembled one. Placing the padded mat in the bottom so that should the Beast not be able to remove itself in time its madness would not result in its personal injury. After all if the red cross were to come over I would not want them to find an insane and battered Beast drooling in its cell. This would most definantly end up in the Lumpy being shipped to Holland to stand trial and frankly the Lumpy hates to travel.

My labor finished I joyfully placed the Beast in the cell, shut the door, and retired to a portion of the house as far away from the cell as I could go. There I grabbed a book. I am sorry to say; however, that the Lumpy residence is neither spacious nor is it sound proof from room to room. Almost immediately the Beast began its wailing. Scream after scream after scream. It felt as though the very house were shaking with the vibrations of the noise that the Beast were making. At several points I had to, with great courage; fortify myself from going into the other room just to make the noise stop. Just as I was handcuffing myself to the couch I noticed a change in the screams. They began to soften and there were long pauses in between. I was amazed. In all honesty I didn't expect this to work the very first time. Within the next twenty minutes the screams slowed down and finally stopped and everything was quiet.

I waited. Then I waited a little longer. Finally I decided to go and peak in the room. Carefully I opened the door and there lay the Beast. I looked a long while but couldn't make out any breathing. Rather than get the Beast to leave I had killed it. This was a mixed blessing. Indeed no Beast is a good thing but certainly my in-laws from the red cross would notice a dead Beast and as I have already mentioned I hate traveling. The only way to forego the inevitable conclusion was to bury the Beast in the back yard. So off I went to get my shovel from the garage.

I began digging in a nice shady area of the yard that I thought the Beast would like. It was in fact the very spot that the Beast had been grazing when I learned that it likes to eat grass. I had dug a fare portion of the grave when my wife returned from her shopping with my now empty wallet. She was of course very curious as to what I was doing so I informed her that the Beast had died and I was working on burying it. With a horrified panicked look my wife raced into the room containing the Beasts cell. By the time I got there my wife had managed to perform a miracle. She resurrected the Beast. How exactly this was done I am uncertain as I was setting down my shovel but I would imagine that like the resurrection of Lazarus it required prayer and the calling forth of the Beast by name.

So I am now left looking for a good game of poker. I have set up the table and am looking for other like minded men dealing with their own invasions to come and join me so that together we might be able to ascertain how to rid ourselves of our enemy combatants. I remain always;

Respectfully Yours,

The Lumpy

On Figments of the Imagination

2005-09-22T07:58:00.000-04:00

Dear Mr. OR,

Shortly after our camping trip my wife called me into our sitting room to talk with me. The Beast was not present as it was one of the rare moments when it sleeps. A serious if not delightful conversation in sued and, to make a long story short, my wife suggested I go to see a psychiatrist. At first I was some what annoyed. Here is my wife whose mind is regularly controlled by the Beast and she is telling me that I need to seek psychiatric help. Still in the several years that we have been married I've often found that the best way to handle these situations is to go along and let her see how foolish the suggestion was as it is being followed.

So this having been said I went off to make an appointment. The psychiatrists’ office wasn't hard to get into and luckily had an appointment for the very next day during work hours. Well a couple hours out of my box in order to have my brain scrubbed sounded like a very good deal to me so I set up the appointment. The next day I sat in a small arm chair facing a tiny man in a three piece suit with a goatee and Salvador Dali-esq mustache as he scribbled onto a pad of paper nearly everything that I said. I told him all about the Beast and what I have been able to find out so far. I mentioned some of the things I was trying to find out. I even mentioned some of the techniques I have been using. When I finished speaking the man leaned forward and looked at me with a poker face that had long since been frozen into a blend of motherly caring and calm understanding. "Mr. Lumpy" he said. "You sir. Have a very serious problem. This Beast. This Beast does not exist. He only exists in your mind."

Well I was flabbergasted. The Beast only exists in my mind? But it seamed so real. Never the less this man has degrees from some of the finest schools in the country. He understands the brain. He would know if this sort of thing were going on. The rest of my appointment was spent discussing how I could become well and have this figment of my imagination removed from my life by ignoring it. It turns out that Figments of the Imagination, like imaginary friends and the like, need constant interaction in order to survive. If you ignore them they eventually fade. So off I went home; firmly convinced that my wife had been correct after all and determined to ignore the Beast no matter what it did.

When I got home my wife asked me how my appointment had gone. I told her it went fine and gave her a kiss. Then she held the Beast out for me to give it a kiss. Why she began doing this I don't know but it has been her custom for some time now and I had been complying in order to keep the peace. This time; however, I pretended not to notice and wandered past her into the house looking for the coffee maker. I wanted a warm cup of coffee and a good book. This was my normal routine before the Beast and if the Beast was not there then I saw no reason I shouldn't jump back into my old routine.

Sitting with my cup of coffee my wife stopped by to ask me if I would hold the Beast so she could make dinner. At first I ignored her but she persisted several times. So I set my book aside and asked her point blank. "What Beast?" Well I thought for a second my wife was going to drop the Beast right on its plastic covered bottom. She waved it in front of my face a few times and said "Uhm. This Beast. Right here." So I looked back at her and said "Dear perhaps you should see a psychiatrist. There's nothing there."

Well much of the night progressed from there into me acting like the Beast wasn't there and my wife attempting to prove that it was. I'm most disappointed to relate that my wife did succeed in the end of convincing me that the Beast is real and we have since agreed that I am no longer in need of psychiatric help. I remain always;

Respectfully Yours,

The Lumpy

On Hunting and Bar-B-Q

2005-09-20T07:59:00.000-04:00

Dear Mr. OR,

Perhaps you can tell that as of late I have been receiving some much needed help, about what to do with the Beast, from some of my friends who live near by. This weekend was no different. After discussing with a particular friend how I might be able to get away from the Beast and find some quiet time I learned that his favorite way was to go hunting. Indeed he talked with great longing about how he would fly into the mountains where he lived in Alaska and would hunt sheep up there. Now personally I'm not sure what the attraction to sheep hunting is. First a sheep is not so fast, even on the downhill slope of a mountain, that I would need a helicopter to chase it. Second I'm not certain that they let them out of their pens before shooting or not. If they do not then I find this particular type of hunting to be rather unsportsmanlike.

All in all though hunting sounded like a very good idea. So I gathered up the wife who gathered up the Beast and off we all went after packing in enormous amounts of camping gear and of course my rifle. We drove to the nearest non-posted woods area and set out to set up camp. Three hours later our camp site completely assembled and the fire started I settled down to prepare the Bar-B-Q sauce that would be used on tomorrows kill. Now the Lumpy is not as skilled as he would like in making Bar-B-Q sauces so his darling bride helped him with the recipe. It is a little known fact that Mrs. Lumpy is an amazing culinary artist and makes a particularly delicious Bar-B-Q sauce.

My labors for the day completed I retired to out tent. The entire Lumpy company seamed quite happy. Even the Beast relaxed its usual screaming regiment and spent several hours contemplating its surroundings. Were it not for the standard rocks and roots under the Lumpy's sleeping bag I may have had the first good nights sleep for weeks.

The next morning I woke up early partially from the stiffness caused by the rocks and roots under my makeshift bed partially in excitement for the mornings events. I awoke the Beast and brought it outside of the tent, my mind full of the hunt. I figure since the Beast is such a wily and cunning creature this should be more difficult than any other hunt I had tried as of yet. I laid the Beast down and shoed it toward the woods. But the Beast didn't move. I gave it a nudge... Nothing. The Beast simply sat there and looked at me. This went on for some time until the sun finally peeked through the trees and there I and the Beast sat. Me with my rifle and the Beast staring at me. The Beast is indeed a very cunning creature and must have known that if it didn't run away I would not be able to hunt it. After all how do you hunt what has already been found? Needless to say later that afternoon we packed up a lot of Bar-B-Q sauce and I am now in need of a fair amount of meet from the local supermarket lest the sauce go to waste. I remain always;

Respectfully Yours,

The Lumpy

On Pavlov and His Parade of Marching Dobermen

2005-09-14T08:02:00.000-04:00

Dear Mr. OR,

I have made a horrible mistake. I have slowly been working up to giving my wife my wallet so that she will leave the Beast with me and go away for several hours. This would give me the time necessary to do a thorough interrogation of the Beast. However; after recently having a conversation with a friend who informed me that it is possible to be invaded by a whole string of Beasts I was so unnerved that I allowed my wife to leave with the Beast after I handed her the majority of my life’s savings. When I finally recovered I decided that this was for the best as I could use the time to relax and enjoy myself. Now feeling unencumbered and enjoying the new found silence I quickly grabbed a drink, found a wonderful book by Fyodor Dostoyevsky, and retired to my favorite chair. An hour later I was asleep.

My dreams have been very fitful of late and this one was a full blown nightmare. My pleasant home had been invaded by no less than four Beasts of varying sizes, shapes, and genders. Some of them were even able to get around the place on their own. They would wander from room to room tearing and eating my precious books and knocking heirlooms off of tables where these fragile objects would plummet to their doom. My tidy kitchen became a mass of mangled pots and pans strewn with spices as if some large steal eating monster were preparing a great meal. And all the time I ran around after them changing their plastic bottoms and trying desperately to put things away. Why at one point I was chasing all for of them through the house as they wandered from room to room in a solid line of destruction causing limbs. Like a parade of Doberman in a china shop. When I awoke to my wife I was so elated to find it had all been a dream that I even kissed The Beast.

Then it happened. My wife brought out the things that she had bought and if I were a brighter man I would have seen my doom immediately. Alas I am not and it wasn't until my wife put batteries in one of the gadgets that I realized just how much trouble I was in. Where I have been unable to find the means The Beast uses to converse with its cronies, it has figured out a way that people converse with each other. What my wife showed me was a type of walkie talkie that was always on. One side allows a person to talk but not listen and the other side allows the person to listen but not talk. Although I could understand how such a device could be useful in some situations, kind of like a small scale intercom, I couldn't think of any reason why we would need one around the Lumpy residence.

My wife handed me the listen side which I accepted with curiosity. Then to my great dismay she handed The Beast the talk side. To my horror, as if on cue, The Beast began to scream and every vowel was coming through loud and clear through my side of the device only twice as loud. I immediately dropped the device and covered my ears running for the other room. My wife is a quick women; however, and had the device up in a flash and followed me around the house with it, laughing all the while, till I made it to my study where I slammed the door behind me and locked it. Although I could still hear the device just outside my door it was at least now muffled down to a tolerable volume. And now like one of Pavlov’s experiments I wander through my house doing whatever I feel like until my wife gets out that cursed device and then off I go to my study. I shall need to disable that device and right soon or risk becoming a prisoner in my own home. I remain always;

Respectfully Yours,

The Lumpy

On The Adaptation of The Species

2005-09-12T07:55:00.000-04:00

Dear Mr. OR

I was sitting in my library over the weekend when my wife approached me and demanded that I hold The Beast for a while so that she could do some things that require two hands. My wife seems to operate under the belief that putting The Beast down will result in its withering like a cut flower on a hot July day. I have; however, tested this theory and I am sorry to report that this is not the case.

So there I sat with The Beast in my lap. The two of us staring at each other. I have often in the past taken this opportunity to try and communicate with The Beast but The Beast refuses to cooperate preferring to stay silent or scream at the top of its lungs but never to converse. Not this time, however. This time The Beast had something new in store for me.

Sitting in my chair I spun The Beast around so it was looking away from me and put it in a sitting position on my lap. With The Beast in this position I can typically read at the same time I'm holding The Beast. Just as I was beginning to enjoy my book the Beast decided to soil itself. Now ordinarily The Beast soiling itself is nothing much to write about as it does this on a regular basis and ever since our first incident we have wrapped The Beasts business end in plastic so as to protect our belongings and sanity. This time was a bit different.

I am convinced that The Beast has been harnessing some kind of evolutionary power that is allowing it to mutate. How do I know this? Well for one it has nearly doubled in size over the last month. Also this last time when The Beast soiled itself it managed to fire the soilage up through the top of its plastic encasing in the back without getting any soilage in the plastic enclosure. In deed if my wife had not recently taken to dressing The Beast like an old women’s schnauzer I would have been covered with the foul stuff. As it was I have one pair of pants that I will never again wear. After much careful thought and a thorough understanding of the significance of what had just happened I called my wife to verify my findings and to help me clean up the mess. My wife; however, was unimpressed and then related to me how four days past The Beast had fired a stream of soilage out the top of its plastic encasing in the front without leaving any soilage in the plastic enclosure. What manner of biological enhancement The Beast has used to create this new onslaught I am unsure of as I am afraid to look. I can just imagine the stream of soilage The Beast would shoot forth should I begin looking around unprotected.

So far The Beast appears to be using it's evolutionary powers in awful but non harmful ways. I dread what will happen should it find a way to develop something truly dangerous. I will continue to watch for new developments. I remain always;

Respectfully yours,

The Lumpy

On Infiltration

2005-09-08T08:02:00.000-04:00

Dear Mr. OR

I have been doing some wandering around my neighborhood as of late, mostly to escape the ongoing noise of The Beast at my household, and I have made an interesting observation. It would seam that The Beasts countrymen have begun their infiltration in force. Everywhere I look these days I'm finding signs that there is a significant Beast presence within the town that I live in. What is more many of my friends have had their own houses infested with Beasts as of late and one family member in particular has just warned her husband, The Lumpys Step-Brother-In-Law, of an upcoming invasion of their own homestead. I had a meeting with him to discuss what I know of how our Beast operates and what he can expect as far as the devious nature of the creature. We then discussed game plans and ways in which he could prepare for the upcoming onslaught.

The amount of our friends and families being infiltrated leads me to believe that our Beast is some form of scout sent in to identify viable targets. It was with this understanding that I have done a full search of The Beasts quarters with in the Lumpy residence looking for infiltration strategies, maps of the surrounding area, names of viable targets, but all I found was the phone book which my wife insists I left in there during a late night phone call the other day.

Thus far what interrogation I have been able to conduct has led to little information and the little information I have been gathered was giving to me in The Beasts native tongue. Since I do not speak Beastish I am busily trying to decipher my phonetic transcripts of its utterances. Thus far I have had very little luck. I will; however, remain vigilant and I will let you know if I find your name entering into the picture as a target for infiltration. Until then I remain always;

Respectfully Yours,

The Lumpy

On Horses and Moose

2005-09-06T08:02:00.000-04:00

Dear Mr. OR,

I am very concerned with the last several days’ events. Where to begin. Ah Yes. Last week we had a visitor come to visit us from a far off land. Another country in fact. Her and my wife planned the visit and our visitor arrived without a hitch. But what is disturbing to me is that she arrived bearing gifts. She brought with her a small rocking-moose.

At first I was elated. Now my wife would be able to remove The Beast from her hip occasionally. Then it dawned on me. Who brings a gift to a tiny little prisoner that they don't even know? I went to our local jail to see if perhaps this was a fad. After all The Lumpys never want to be out of fashion and if it is now in vogue to bring presents to inmates you don't know... Well... I have tons of interesting junk I would be only too happy to gift wrap. However, after speaking with the nice officer who oversees visitation at the jail I was assured that this is a highly unusual activity even for visitors from other countries.

Then this last weekend I huddled all of the occupants of The Lumpy Residence into the car, no small feet, and headed for a local amusement park for the day. If there were ever a residential task for which husbands should receive purple hearts it is for managing to get the occupants of his house anywhere on time. As is standard for me I would not have gained said purple heart to this date. This fact always ends in my driving like I am part of the Indy 500 and then having a heart attack the moment I see the inevitable police car waiting to catch people who are late due to no fault of their own.

We arrived at the amusement park late and proceeded inside where we met up with a large portion of The Lumpy family. This gaggle of Lumpys proceeded to move from attraction to attraction passing The Beast around so that everyone received their chance to be jailor. That is until we got to the carousel. The entire Lumpy family then out voted The Lumpy resulting in The Beast being brought onto the Carousel and placed upon a gilt covered horse. The entire Lumpy family then spent the entire ride staring at The Beast as if it were the most wonderful thing in the world to watch a Beast on a horse trying to eat the Gold painted pole sticking out of the horses back.

The overall attitude of both the Lumpy family and our guest have led me to believe that people view The Beast as some sort of pet instead of as the threat that it really is. Perhaps this is because of the clothing the wife has chosen for The Beast. It is with this in mind that I am going to the store this afternoon and buying a new wardrobe for the beast consisting of suits made of stripes or traffic cone orange. Perhaps then people will recognize that The Beast is nothing to be trifled with. I remain always;

Respectfully Yours,

The Lumpy

On Cattle and Flypaper

2005-09-01T07:37:00.000-04:00

Dear Mr. OR,

It has been quite the day for discovery over here at The Lumpys residence. I have finally learned what it is that The Beast eats and to be honest I feel rather foolish for not simply guessing from the beginning. The Beast eats grass just like cattle. Although I suppose the beast is a little more like a goat in regards to its eating habits as it will try and chew nearly anything. All the same this revelation came to me as I was observing The Beast in my back yard. My wife and I were enjoying the nice summer sun which is always an excuse to also enjoy some ice tea. My wife as always carried The Beast out with us and sat it down on the blanket as well. I have learned not to argue about such things as it invariably ends with me doing what ever I had been planning on doing either with an angry wife and Beast or else alone. As I studied The Beast I noticed that it was expending great amounts of energy trying to move forward. It would strain and reach and grunt and kick its legs up into the air. I find it amazing that The Beast even has legs since as far as I can tell it has no use for them. It is largely parasitic in nature and requires being lugged around by a host. Still to my amazement I noticed that all this effort was beginning to work. The beast began rotating in a clockwise fashion and slowly inching towards the edge of the blanket. After about thirty minutes of this the Beast had reached its goal and immediately began tearing large amounts of grass out of the ground and stuffing it into its mouth. Each successive handful bringing more grass and dirt up to its gapping maw.

This information couldn't have come at a better time as we are having my in-laws over for dinner whom I trust you will recall work for the Red Cross and threatened to send me to Switzerland to be tried on war crimes if I did not feed The Beast. So I have busied myself for part of the morning gathering all manner of grasses and weeds that I might feed them to The Beast tonight while my in-laws are over.

I have also found a way to keep The Beast in a safe area of the house out of harms way. The answer came to me as I was attempting to come up with ways to restrain The Beast. I recall you mentioning that duct tape could be used to silence the creature and thought that it would also make a decent restraint except that duct tape leaves behind a sticky residue that can be very difficult to clean off. Then it struck me. Velcro. And with that I was off to the store again. I came back with large quantities of Velcro and busied myself putting the Velcro onto the wall and onto a set of The Beasts clothing. Then I waited hiding the clothing very carefully where my wife was very unlikely to find it. Several hours later my wife asked me to watch the Beast as she went to the store to pick up dinner for this evenings meal with the in-laws. I cheerfully agreed which made her look at me sideways and taking The Beast I retired to the room I had previously prepared. I carefully put The Beast into its little suit and placed The Beast on the Velcro. The Beast stuck. Indeed it was hanging there like a large fly caught on some fly paper. At this point I started wondering. It would be nice for convenience sake if I didn't have to always walk over to the Velcro to put the beast on it. So I pulled The Beast free and tried gently tossing it over to the spot and was amazed to see the Velcro stuck with out a problem. So I took a step back. I was in fact practicing my hook shots and three pointers when my wife got home from the store. I have been banned from ever buying Velcro or anything sticky for the rest of eternity. I remain always;

Respectfully Yours,

The Lumpy

On Geysers and Fountains

2005-08-29T07:47:00.000-04:00

Dear Mr. OR,

I have witnessed a most terrifying event. Even now as I sit here to write to you I can still see it in my minds eye. The evening was no different than any other. My wife was wondering around the house doing chores, the Beast in its customary spot on her hip. My chores finished I was sitting down to a nice relaxing cup of tea and a fine book. My wife wandered over to sit next to me when The Beast unleashed its attack. The Beast convulsed once, twice, three times and geysered forth a white, sticky foul smelling substance onto my wife’s torso. I jumped up depositing my hot tea into my lap and spent the next several seconds trying uselessly to pull steaming hot cloth away from legs while blowing at an area of my body that my head was never meant to get close enough to blow on. All the time I'm doing this my wife is running around the house yelling at the top of her lungs grabbing for anything she can wipe the goop off with. My pants now quite chilly and uncomfortable against my slightly boiled legs I ran for the nearest set of paper towels all the time wondering if the vile concoction might be poisonous or perhaps acidic. Who knows what such a vile creature can produce from deep down in its bowels.

Finding the paper towels I ran to my wife’s aid who had so far drenched one curtain and one bath towel with the foul substance. As I handed my wife the towel The Beast wound up and fired again. This time the liquid flew in a not so graceful arc getting part of my wife’s back and most of my shins and shoes. Now we're both going through paper towels as quick as we can. Wiping down ourselves and our precious belongings that are getting splattered. I am happy to say that the concoction was not acidic. At least not with sufficient strength to eat through wood, fabric or flesh with any kind of rapidity. After this second bout my wife got very smart and when the third one came she was ready: tipping the little monster to the side forcing it to spray the goo straight down onto the floor. Unfortunately the Beast had a second card to play.

Before either of us realized what the Beast had in store it unleashed attack number two. My wife suddenly grabbed the beast with her left hand and threw her right hand (the one that had previously been holding the Beast) out to the side as if she had been stung. There in the middle of her forearm and all down the beasts back was a large brown spot. My wife laid the Beast down in the middle of the carnage and began removing its clothes. Did I mention that my wife has taken to dressing the Beast like a little human? I don't understand why but it has bothered me less than one might suppose as I have seen several old ladies on our street dressing there small dogs much the same way. Indeed the female psyche is something that I will never fully comprehend.

The Beasts cloths now removed we were able to determine the source of the brown spot. This was no mystery liquid. This was the same foul soilage that my wife had threatened to rub on my chair back many weeks ago. It seems that fate has a sense of humor. Being a somewhat sharp witted man the idea came to my head instantly and I almost burst into a fit of laughter there on the spot but there is no telling what my wife would have done once she learned the nature of my mirth. Indeed I would not be surprised to find myself wearing a fair amount of the brown substance at the end of that exchange.

The most disturbing part; however, was that the Beast was bubbling this liquid sludge up from its protective wrappings like a fountain or hot spring. The splatter marks reached up to the Beasts arm pits and ran down in lines. A small pool was collecting all around its posterior. My wife charged for the bathroom. I turned on the water and in seconds The Beast, half of my wife, myself, most of the bathroom, and The Beasts protective covering were all doused in a spray of water. I switched the bathtub over from shower to bath, my wife took off the Beasts protective clothing all the while yelling things at me that I neither care to relate nor remember as I was not listening. Within seconds the Beast was plunged into the bath and the scrubbing began. My wife being the more soiled scrubbed the Beast while I held it in various poses and contorted positions.

The rest of the night was spent recleaning many of the things we had spent cleaning that afternoon. Then showers and finally in the very early hours of the morning the Beast having tried several more times to cover us in more white liquid was unable to bring anymore forward and so gave up and decided it was time to go to sleep. My wife and I agreed and off we went to sleep.

It was a harrowing experience. But we managed to survived. Even the Beast is quite chipper this morning despite its failed attack on my personage. The windows and door to the house are open and I'm certain the cool breeze will blow out much of the still sour smelling air. And now I am off to read the book I had intended to start last night. I remain always;

Respectfully yours,

The Lumpy

On Vacations

2005-08-24T08:14:00.000-04:00

Dear Mr. OR

Please forgive my tardiness once again in sending my communication to you but I have been on a bit of a vacation. And what a vacation it was. As I'm sure you can imagine the wife demanded that The Beast come along and this is where my latest adventure begins.

For once I was not against bringing The Beast along. I mean if we left it at the house who knows what could happen. The Beast could burn the house down and when I got home all my prized possessions would be nothing more than ash. That would never do. The Beast had to come. However, as is always the case with my wife, we were bringing a lot of equipment with us and space in our vehicle was limited. Being the quick thinking person that I am I quickly came up with a plan. Running to my garage I came back with a length of rope and quickly began strapping The Beast firmly to the top of our car. Well, you would have been impressed with the fit that my wife threw. I had thought that I was being generous as my first thought was to tie The Beast to my bumper and drag it along behind us.

After several minutes of heated discussion my wife disappeared back into our house and returned with one of our expensive if somewhat ineffective torture devices. I must admit I was quite confused and still am a bit befuddled at this turn of events but ever since The Beast arrived my wife has acted more and more erratic with each passing day. My wife quickly busied herself strapping The Beast into this tiny Rack like device which did not make The Beast happy in any sense of the word. Indeed The Beast screamed so loudly that my ears began to ring as if I'd spent an hour at the firing range. This having been accomplished she stuffed The Beast on the rack in the back seat of the car. This having been done my wife made it clear she was now ready to leave so off we went.

The Beast screamed most of the way to the beach before finally passing out. I shall have to pay closer attention next time to how my wife used the torture device as it apparently works for her. Once at the beach my wife and I pulled all of our stuff including The Beast out of the car and made our way to a free spot on the sand. My wife revived The Beast and removed it from the rack. I argued a little at first until my wife reminded me of all the people around and stated that she didn't want us to look like savages. I conceded and instead took The Beast and began heading for the water. Just at the edge of the waves I was stopped by the lifeguard. Apparently I am not aloud to have The Beast near the water without some kind of floatation device. It was at this point that my wife came running up holding a couple of inflated orange donut devices. At first I wasn't sure how to attach them. Then I realized that the hole in the donut is just about the same size as The Beasts neck. So without hesitation I strapped one on and brought the beast out to where it could float peacefully without hitting the bottom and there it sat, its head just above the waves bobbing like some strange cork.

The strangest thing; however, is that everywhere we went there were people looking at The Beast and smiling. Several people asked if they could take The Beast home with them. I couldn't believe it. When I finally regained my composure I quickly offered The Beast to them but each time they laughed and headed on their way. Perhaps they didn't think I was serious. So I began a small auction but just as a decent crowd was gathering and I was about to start the bidding the lifeguard came by again and informed me that I needed a permit to hold auctions in that location. I didn't have a permit. Now why so many people would want a Beast of their own or my Beast for that matter eludes me. The only thing I can think of is that there must be a market for Beast fur. I came to this conclusion because nearly everyone who stopped remarked on the color of our Beasts fur. You see our Beast has red fur which is apparently fairly rare. So it is to that end that I have bought a pair of clippers and shorn our Beast. I now have a small amount of red Beast fur for sale. Unfortunately our Beast does not have much hair as of yet but given that it is so rare I can imagine that I'll still get a decent price. So for now I am off to make a sign to put in my front yard. Red Beast Hair for sale. Get it while supplies last.
I remain always;

Respectfully yours,

The Lumpy

On Ownership and Accusations

2005-08-18T08:16:00.000-04:00

Dear Mr. OR,

The strangest thing has been happening around the Lumpy residence lately. It began with a new attempt at spot concentration as you had suggested earlier. The Beast has taken to doing everything in its power lately to make noise. Now as you well know the Lumpy does not handle noise very well. So too settle myself down and find a quite happy place I took a seat in my favorite chair and looked for a spot on my wall. I have in fact been practicing this process while in my box at work and have gained some proficiency with the technique. Upon finding the spot I concentrated until the whole rest of the world went away. It was wonderful. I found myself surrounded by pleasant thoughts of... Anyways.

What I failed to realize is the vulnerable position that this puts me in. I was in fact ripped from this happy place by the solid thump of The Beast plummeting from a distance above my head directly onto my lap. Needless to say I was shocked. When did The Beast learn to fly? I had never even seen it walk on its own much less soar around the room. And then the noise came flooding in like tidal wave and I quickly became aware of Mrs. Lumpy standing next to me shouting at the top of her lungs. At first I was so upset about the onslaught of noise that I had difficulty making out what she was saying but with another second or two I would be totally flabbergasted. Here stood my wife, my darling bride, Mrs. Lumpy, who had warned me of the upcoming invasion, yelling at the top of her lungs how The Beast was My Beast. In fact she accused me of desiring one of these little monsters and then went so far as to say that I had been petitioning for one and actively attempting to locate one. Why the idea was so preposterous that I didn't think it required comment. How absurd that any man leading a quiet life style full of leisure and intellectual activity would actually seek out the demise of his cherished life style by employing a monster. I dare say that if anyone invited The Beast it would have to be Mrs. Lumpy. Why she told me of The Beast before I even new there was such a thing. Of course pointing this fact out to her only enraged her further.

In the end Mrs. Lumpy decided she was going to sit in my favorite chair and forced me to carry The Beast around the house in the hope that we could get it to stop making so much noise. For a second it occurred to me that this would be an opportune time to begin working with the devices of torture I had spent so much money on but alas they are in the same room as my beloved chair and my wife would never allow such activity within her presence. The only good I can say came from all of this is that I had time to think and begin plotting my next move. I will write shortly to discuss the outcomes. I remain always;

Respectfully yours,

The Lumpy

On the Aerodynamics of Gruel

2005-08-15T07:49:00.000-04:00

Dear Mr. OR,

I have not as of yet relinquished myself to sacrificing my pocket book in order to gain the time alone with The Beast necessary for a thorough interrogation. I am in fact hoping to hold out until some major sail so as to minimize the damage.

I happened to have a visit from my in-laws lately. As you remember I find this an excellent time to sleep thereby thwarting The Beasts nightly sleep deprivation schemes which are still going on. However, this time I was not able to take my customary nap immediately as my in-laws who happen to work with the Red Cross had several things to say to me in regards to my tiny prisoner. I was able to answer most of their questions satisfactorily if somewhat dishonestly. After all The Beast has been far to cunning for me to figure out much at all about it or how it is doing. I was; however, rather stumped by the question of food. I don't recall having ever fed The Beast anything. And since it could not have survived so long without food I'm certain that my wife must have been sneaking it meals. Of course this was not ok with my in-laws or the Red Cross as they feel that I must obey the Geneva Convention and make sure that The Beast gets food. Not wanting to be inhumane I agreed and so off I went to retrieve the makings for a thick gruel.

I had only two criteria. First it must not be very palatable and second it must not fly through the air well. I had no desire to clean gruel for hours after an enraged Beast decided to throw it around the room. I had expected to have some difficulty but as it turns out there has been an epidemic of these little intruders that for many years I was largely oblivious too. Consequently there was an abundance of gruel around for the choosing in various quantities and prices. Indeed I had no idea there was such a market for foul tasting glop. Quickly picking one, shopping is not one of The Lumpys favorite activities, I checked it out and hurried home. As I arrived the in-laws were on their way out the door but informed me that they would be coming back in a day or two to see how the feeding was going. So much for my nap.

Once inside I busied myself around the kitchen preparing the gruel much to the delight of my wife who I think was happy she would not need to sneak The Beast so much food anymore. I cooked and stirred till it was just the right consistency and then let it cool. With the in-laws coming in a day or two I can't risk having a singed Beast or I may be taken before the international court on war crimes charges. Once cooled I began feeding The Beast my concoction. At first it ate hungrily. I could tell that I had picked the right one as despite The Beasts hunger it still forced half of each mouthful out onto its chin making faces all the while. I was so relieved that I failed to see the glint in its beastly eyes. In a moment when I was slightly distracted The Beast made a ptlblblblblblblbbl sound and I was covered by bits and pieces of gruel. I was quite upset as gruel does not clean out of clothing well but I was even more curious as to how The Beast had accomplished this. Gruel is not very Aerodynamic. I checked both of The Beasts hands but could not find any device. Tipped it forward, left, right, upside-down, checked the bottom of its feet. Nothing.

Tomorrow I shall keep a closer watch and see if I can find where it has hidden its little device but for now I must go and clean the rest of the gruel out of my hair. I remain always;

Respectfully yours,

The Lumpy

On Shockwire, Antenna, and Spots.

2005-08-12T08:00:00.000-04:00

Dear Mr. OR

We have located your letter and have attached it to the back of this note. We thank you for your patience in this matter.
Thank you,

John Smith,
Post Master

Dear Mr. OR,

I am sorry to inform you that my wife and I are not on the happiest of terms right now. I'm sure this hardly comes as a surprise given the amount of control that the beast has begun to exhibit in her life. I'm afraid I have much to relate especially given the amount of suggestions you've sent me recently.

First and foremost you have no idea how hard it can be to find livestock shock wire around here. You see there isn't much call for that out here in the city but a nice drive out to the country seamed like an excellent idea. I was on my way out the door when my wife surprised me from behind carrying the beast. In deed I see them so often standing in that fashion that I've begun to wonder if the beasts bottom has grown into my wife’s hip. I certainly hope that this is not the case. More research on that will be necessary. Where was I? Ah yes. My wife demanded that she and the beast come along. It seams that the beast thrives on fresh air and there simply isn't enough of it around our house. The usual argument ensued and once again it was apparent that she was coming with me "like it or not." So off we went.

It was at this point that I tried another one of your suggestions and I do not advise it in a moving vehicle. As we were driving the beast began its usual onslaught, unleashing every weapon in its arsenal. In fact it must have given itself a bit of a shock as when we later removed it from the car it had soiled itself all the way up to its neck. As The Beast was doing this I looked for that point of interest to focus on in order to close off my mind to its attacks. I must say it worked quite well. That is until my wife grabbed the steering wheal screaming and put us back on the road.

All of that aside the rest of the trip went more or less without a hitch and we made it to the country hardware store just a little behind schedule. I quickly ran in and picked up some shock wire and six industrial screws. It took all my effort to keep from speeding as I raced home anxious to try out my new purchases. And I was amazed to find my wife cooperating when I got home. In deed she handed me The Beast and sent me to give it a bath. How cleaver of her. The shock wire should work even better with The Beast submerged in water. So off I went. Soiled Beast in one hand, shock wire in the other, and a big smile on my face. Until I got into the bathroom.

I had filled up the tub and placed The Beast within like a piece of roast being put into the stew pot to make soup. Then I turned around to plug in the shock wire. It turns out that shock wire has a very different electrical prong configuration than what I use in my house. After several minutes of fiddling I was forced to set the wire aside and wash The Beast whom I then put back on my wife’s hip and headed for the attic.

In the attic we have an old antenna. I have never had much use for it as I do not own a TV. Annoying, noisy time wasters that they are. So it has sat in our attic for some time gathering dust. Your note suggesting I create a connection to the Beast that will allow me to communicate with it gave me an idea however. It may be that its communication devices are similar to radio waves or television waves in which case if I mount the old antennae to it I may be able to disrupt it by forcing it to deal with all the new information. With new found vigor I ran for my drill and grabbed the screws I had purchased earlier that day. Now ready for my experiment I stalked around the house looking for an opportune moment when The Beast would be separated from my wife. I was amazed by my wife’s stamina as it took many hours before she finally put the beast down and left the room. My diligence rewarded I quickly dashed into the room and began marking out where on the beasts scalp I would place the screw holes. Then revving my drill once or twice to make sure the batteries were still good I put the screw on the tip of the drill and in walked my wife. Now I have often seen my bride upset over one thing or another but never before have I seen anything like this. She was nearly a different person entirely. And her new found self had super human strength. I had to flee for my life, running around the house and screaming in a most undignified manner as I dodged flying objects that at one time or another had been dear to her or me. Finally, her anger subsided, my wife went into the room with the beast and locked the door. And thus the day’s events were concluded. Perhaps tomorrow I'll get another chance but only time will tell. Until then I remain always;

Respectfully yours,

The Lumpy

United Postal Service Message

2005-08-10T12:43:00.000-04:00

Dear Mr. OR,

I am writing to you to inform you that we have missplaced a letter addressed to you. We expect to find the letter quickly and will deliver it promptly upon locating it. We thank you for your patience in this matter.
Thank you,

John Smith,
Post Master

On the State of Modern Workmanship

2005-08-08T08:00:00.000-04:00

Dear OR,

Have you noticed that they just don’t make things like they used to? Or perhaps it is simply that we have lost our focus. As you may recall I have a new job that requires me to spend many hours staring at the walls of a tiny box which I crammed into every morning. I had to get this job in order to increase my household income in order to purchase devices of torture for The Beast so that when I had a chance I would be able to question the monstrosity. Well I finally had my chance.

Over the weekend my lovely wife asked me to keep the invader at the house for a while so that she could pick up some groceries. I am certain that this was my wife fighting against The Beasts mind control to leave me a coded message: "Let the Torture Begin!” So being a loving husband I readily agreed and went about gathering all our new gadgets and gizmos, previously assembled by myself, into our main living space.

I grinned as my wife walked out the door and quickly snatched the beast from a corner and went about latching it down in a small chair with buckles and hooks and blankets with zippers. I can only assume that the blankets are some kind of heat torture as it is currently 94 degrees here. I regretfully must inform you that The Beasts Will is strong and even when thoroughly restrained and placed in the baking blanket it looked at me and smiled as if to say "Do your worst." So I tried. I looked all over the chair but couldn’t find the button to begin a shock treatment. Nor could I find anyway to tighten the restraints enough to use this as a crushing device. I checked the temperature with a thermometer and you can imagine my surprise when it turned out to be slightly cooler than the air outside. In desperation, I'm ashamed to admit, I read the directions but they were no help as they were all about correctly securing the chair and the victim and didn't get into the torture techniques. Perhaps the manufacturer ran out of paper.

Several other devices turned out much the same way. I did not get a chance to try them all as my wife came home first and removed The Beast from clutches. Apparently it was only a momentary lapse in mind control. However, I'm beginning to believe that the other devices will suffer the same debilitating defects. It seams that folks have lost the stomach for real instruments of torture and so now they only manufacture worthless devices that give the appearance of torture occurring without actually inflicting the necessary pain and suffering.

I shall have to rely on other means. I know another man in a similar situation to mine. Perhaps if we get the two together we can ease drop and learn what their plans are. I will of course keep you abreast of any developments. I remain always;

Respectfully yours,

The Lumpy

On Betrayal and Becoming a Mule

2005-08-04T08:03:00.000-04:00

Dear OR,

I am coming to realize that I am no longer in control of events surrounding my life. At one time yes I was. But now...

This profound and significant truth came crashing home to me the other day as I was sitting in my box staring at the wall as usual. I was contemplating the hairy fibers of the box and fine woody smell when some images from this weekend popped quite unexpectedly into my head. The Beast and my wife were at it as usual. My wife was carrying the beast around rocking back and forth like a heroine addict going through withdrawal while The Beast screamed at the top of its lungs.

Now if there is one thing that irritates me to the point of madness it is loud unceasing noise. I am a quiet man prone to fits of reading as I'm sure you remember and these loud interruptions make me feel almost violent. Somehow The Beast must have picked up on this because it and my wife followed me around the house for the better part of three hours screaming all the while.

I couldn't take it anymore. So I asked my Wife what I could do to get them to stop. At first I refused their demands but another 45 minutes found me saddled like a common beast of burden. A large backpack strapped to me with The Beast riding triumphantly inside and as if that wasn't enough my wife paraded me around the streets of our neighborhood to show everyone my humiliation. All of this now confirms two things to me. First I am no longer in control but they are. Second there can be no negotiations it is either I who must give in or them but there will be no middle ground. They have made this clear.

I have been far too passive as of late and have allowed The Beast to nearly take over my home with out a fight. From this point on it is war. The trick will be to separate The Beast from my wife. Wish me luck for tonight I begin planning. I will not be so humiliated again! I remain always;

Respectfully yours,

The Lumpy

On the Power of the Pocket Book

2005-08-02T10:08:00.000-04:00

Dear OR,

Indeed Mr. OR I have in fact been attending work regularly. In fact it is this very subject that is the reason why this post is so late. However; to do this justice I must back track a bit in on our conversation here.

You see prior to the arrival of The Beast my wife had informed me about the possibility of just such an invasion. Indeed my wife’s intuition often borders on the psychic in situations such as these. My wife informed me that such an invasion would be very expensive; requiring all manner of specialised devices. I believe many of these devices to be excellent means for torturing invaders into giving up information about their troop movements. Indeed upon buying some of these items I found them covered in belts, straps, buckles, hooks and many other devices used for immobilizing an adversary. I also realized upon inspection that modern torture is not cheap.

You see I was working at a delightful little resort at the time that provided all manner of liberties. In fact it was a lot more like attending your local smoking or country club than it was like going to work. Well even enjoyable leisurely work has its draw backs and the drawback here was simply that I was barely paid enough to maintain my chosen life style.

The wife and I argued for many hours about possibilities and replacement items and I must confess I was amazed at the bloodthirstiness I found in my bride. Indeed she steadfastly refused to budge on any of the latest technologies in torture and in fact was constantly adding devices to the list as she looked through catalogs or perused local inventories. Why, when I suggested we could use some rope to immobilize the expectant prisoners I was reprimanded so thoroughly that I feared bringing forth any further suggestions and instead began looking at ways to improve our income.

And this brings me to the reason I am late in my correspondence. As I am sure you have guessed by now I have changed employment. I am sad to report that this job is nothing like attending a smoking or country club but instead feels more like attempting to survive forced attrition. Indeed within days of my arrival they terminated twenty employees.

The Beast seams to require ever increasing flows of cash; however, so daily I report to work where they stuff me into a very small box with only a single light to read by and demand that I stare at my boxes walls for several hours at a time and then they send me home stiff. What purpose this serves I am not sure as I am afraid to ask the taskmasters but for now I am concentrating very hard at being the best box-wall starer that I can be. Perhaps if I show aptitude they will allow me a bigger box.

In regards to sleeping while at work I must confess I have come close several times. Indeed I find myself nodding off regularly but invariably as soon as my eyes begin to droop one of the taskmasters will come along and kick my box, ask me some question about the condition of its walls, and then wander off leaving me with the faint impression that I gave the wrong answer and will be among the next set of workers released.

So given my current state of affairs I hope that you will forgive my late correspondence and I shall try to remain more diligent in the future. I remain always;

Respectfully yours,

The Lumpy

On Torture

2005-07-27T08:37:00.000-04:00

Dear OR,

I spent the better part of the day today building a small outdoor condominium in which to house The Beast because my wife insists on keeping it and says that chaining it to the front tree like small dog is not a viable option. I personally don't see why not. It is fairly quiet and wont disturb the neighbors and in this summer weather it is far less likely to get heat stroke as it is basically hairless. Never the less my wife insisted it would not be chained. After many hours of sweat and toiling in the hot sun I was able to complete my chore and went in to tell my wife.

Ordinarily I would have expected to receive large amounts of praise from her for my hard work and ingenuity. So you can imagine my surprise when I received a very different response. It seams, according to what my wife said, that she and The Beast had discussed this and agreed that it would be staying in our room with us. In fact it would even be aloud to sleep in our bed should it so desire. With much animated discussion it was apparent that I could not gain ground on this argument and so I retired to my favorite chair to ponder the afternoon’s events.

The real surprise for me would come later that evening. It was only then that I realized the truth of why this was necessary. It seams that my wife and The Beast have decided to ware me down through lack of sleep. You see every couple of hours The Beast will let out a horrific yell. This is my wife’s cue to roll around and bounce up and down on the bed until the combination of noise and shaking wake me from my blissful slumber. I've been doing some reading and I have found that this is often a tactic employed in torture to break the will of your prey. After this yell my wife will shove me over until I must cling to the side of the bed for fear of falling off so that she can put The Beast in bed with us and settle it down.

I have been many days without sleep at the time of this writing and so far so good. The trick is in finding alternate places and times to sleep. Luckily we have had a tremendous upsurge in visits by our in-laws. All ways a good time to take a nap.
I remain always:

Respectfully yours,

The Lumpy

On Soilage and the Defilement of the Throne

2005-07-25T07:59:00.000-04:00

Dear OR,

Much to my disgust I recently discovered that The Beast, the name I constantly find myself referring to this little creature as, has a need to expel waste the same as we do. What is so bad about that you say? Unlike any civilized individual who would use the bathroom it simply sits where ever it may be and does its business. Imagine how appalled I was the other day to find it rolling around in the mess it had just made. And to make matters worse my wife turned to me and made it very clear that she wanted me to clean it up. Clean it up?! What a ludicrous idea. Perhaps if I leave it uncomfortable it will pack up its bags and head back to where it came from.

I am sorry to report; however, that that was not the result. Instead, The Beast exercised some form of mind control and took over my wife. I know it was The Beast because my wife has never acted so irrationally before. In one quick movement she hoisted this devious creature over my favorite chair and threatened to smear the toxic side across the fabric. I could barely believe what I was seeing. And now she insists that I spend money to encase its bottom in plastic. It would seam that this is the only way to keep my chair safe as my wife insists that she is incapable of teaching this monster how to be civilized.

I must say that I did appreciate your suggestion of how to avoid The Beast. Indeed the Bathroom would be a formidable challenge for such a small creature. It cannot reach the doorknob yet and the walls a fairly well insulated so that noise doesn't enter easily. With this in mind I gathered some of my favorite reading materials and headed off for what I had hoped would be a delightful afternoon. Unfortunately it was not to be so.

You see, I had not planned on my wife becoming involved in this scenario. About the third hour she came knocking at the door demanding entrance. Well there was no way I was going to allow that to happen as wherever she goes The Beast is always right behind. So I sent her away. A little space later she was back again pounding on the door. She must have asked The Beast to try its mind control tricks on me but as of yet I'm still able to resist its cunning devices so I sent her away again. We went on like this for some time until my wife went around the house to the window on the other side of the bathroom which I had opened in order to let in a cool refreshing breeze and glared in at me lying in the tub reading. From that moment on my quite repose was any thing but quite and I eventually had to let her into the bathroom and seek a more quiet environment. Since then if I am in the bathroom for more than 15 minutes my wife bangs on the door until I finally break down and allow her entrance.

But despite all these things have no fear. I am so far unscathed and still in my right mind. I remain always:

Respectfully Yours,

The Lumpy

It Begins

2005-07-22T10:35:00.000-04:00

Dear OR,

I'm afraid that I must dispense with the plesentries that a communication such as this would usually warrant. You see I am writing to you because I believe I am in great danger. As you are aware, some time ago I was married to a wonderful, attractive, and highly intelligent women who up until recently has been a great joy to me. I suppose all good things must; however, eventually come to an end as I will relate.

You see very recently my wife has come under the influence of a small yet very deviouse being who sole purpose is the destruction of my happiness. I dare say this tiny form is out to dominate and supplant me in my own home. But I am determined not to go down without a fight. How could my wife be persuaded to cooperate with this tiny demon? It is difficult to explaine in writing and must be experienced. In deed I nearly gave in without a fight myself for this creature is possessed of a divine beauty and formidable emotional weapons and there in lies its strength and its weekness.

My wife being a more emotional being was overtaken immediatly while I being somewhat less emotional have been able to catch glimpses of the true nature of my tiny foe. Oh it is a terrorfying creature. I have spent many a night awake contemplating just how develish a creation it is. It's sole purpose is to be served by those older and wiser than it. Like a queen on its throne it expects all people around it to submit to its every demand. And if you don't move fast enough it is quick to unleash one of it's awesome emotional weapons.

I fear how long I will last and I send you these letters that you may be warned less you allow one of these little demons into your own home and also that should something happen too me someone will know who has caused it. I remain always:
Respectfully yours,

The Lumpy

The answer to all riddles

2005-07-10T09:19:00.000-04:00

If you are new to the Oddyssey or having a hard time understanding what is going on here is a short list of mysteries and their answers to help you navigate through the literature.

The Lumpy - The lumpy is our author and hero. He is fighting to keep control of his household from what he believes to be a tiny invader he refers to as the Beast. Lumpy loves to read, hates noise and is in correspondence with a gentlemen named Mr. OR about his on going battle.

Lumpys Darling Wife - The Lumpy was and is happily married to a women that is having her mind controlled by The Beast. Hence she is often found fighting on the side of the Beast although from time to time she breaks the spell and gives Lumpy a chance at thwarting the Beasts plan to take over Lumpys household.

The Beast - The Beast in real life is, in fact, my (as of october 2005) six month old daughter who is the joy of my life but in the realm of the Oddyssey she is a tiny invader trying to take over the Lumpys happy home. The Beasts main weapons to date are Noise and mind control tactics as well as verious substances that the Beast is able to excreate from its different orifaces.

The Red Cross - Referes specifically to the Lumpys-in-laws who are another semi-antaganistic force within the Oddyssey (This is not factual in real life if they happen to be reading this). The Red Cross looks at the Beast as a Prisoner of war and; therefore, demands that the Lumpy treat the Beast humanly.

Various Lumpy Family Members - Until such time as these people become a fleshed out part of the Oddyssey they shall remain mainly keepers of the Beast while the Lumpy and his wife escape for one purpose or another or else a curiosity whose actions towards the Beast the Lumpy does not understand.

As I'm sure you have noticed there are some inanimate objects that play a role in the oddyssey as well and require a description.

Lumpys Box - Lumpy is a cubicle worker and is forced to spend many hours each day simply sitting in his box staring at the walls. This is how the Lumpy makes money for all of his plans. Why they pay him to do this he is still unawares.

Torture Devices - Lumpys torture devices are in actuality the standard toys and carseats and other baby parafanalia that most of us receive at baby showers. The Lumpy doesn't understand that these things are to keep the Beast safe and happy as the Lumpy can not comprehend why someone would want to do such a thing.

The Beasts Plastic Bottom - This is refering to diapers which The Lumpy began buying and wrapping the Beast in after his wife threatened to wipe the Beasts soiled bottom on The Lumpys favorite reading chair.