The New England Mad Scientists Newsletter

… lots of Mad Scientists there

 

The Doclopedia #538

Those Furry Little Bastards!: Ancient Version

Sekht, Egyptian priest

Sadly, Pharaoh, I must report that work on your great pyramid has almost ground to a halt. It seems that the Pitipati have absconded with most of our slaves as we slept last night. No, we have no idea where the went. Of course, it would not really matter, since they also took our plans for the pyramid with them. Then there is the fact that the furry little bastards look sort of like cats, making your soldiers afraid to kill them lest they piss of Bast.”

Hsang Lung, Chinese traveling herbalist

I tell you, Wing, the Pitipati are wrecking havoc across the land. I was in the city only yesterday and saw a dozen of them carrying off a fat & rich merchant so they could toss him in the river. And just last week, I heard that they helped sneak a band of thieves right into the home of the governor! Rumor has it, they stole most of his belongings and two of his daughters! Several armies have tried to eliminate the Pitipati, but none have even come close. Why, General Tsin’s army was missing for a week and when they came back, they were in their underwear and their skin was dyed pink! I tell you, these creatures will be the death of China!”

Runs With The Wind, Cree woman

These Pitipati are tricksters, oh yes. They watch and protect our children, but then they throw sticks and rocks at our men when they are bathing. They leave us clay pots, but eat our berries. They lead our hunters to good hunting, but then make our dogs howl at night. I think we will be glad when they go away.”

The Doclopedia #539

Those Furry Little Bastards!: Post Apocalyptic Version

Red Davy, scrounger, ruins of Las Vegas, Nevada

“I hate the Pitipati! If I could catch one, I’d kill it and eat it! YA HEAR ME, YOU LITTLE FUCKERS? I KNOW YER OUT THERE! Sorry, man, but they’ve been fucking with me for days. Started when I was in the Luxor, looking for some canned food. I’d just scored two cans of corn and a can of stewed tomatoes when all of a sudden, I’m getting pelted with fuckin’ dice and poker chips from up near the ceiling. Those hard edged casino dice hurt, dawg! I tried trowing an old frying pan at them, but the furry little shits are fast as hell. Since then, they’ve been following me around bugging me, so I’m gonna head out of town, maybe over to Henderson. YA HEAR THAT, YOU LITTLE PUNKS? YOU”LL HAVE TO FIND SOMEBODY ELSE TO FUCK WITH!”

 Dog Girl, resident, Creekside Estates, Milpitas, California

No, they won’t bite you unless I tell them to. So, yeah, I’ve been living here with my homedogs since two summers ago. Nice houses, the ones still standing. Nothin’ like we had over in Palo Alto when I was a kid. Hunting is pretty good, too, down near the creek. Of course, the dogs keep things fairly safe. The Pitipati? Oh yeah, they come around once in a while, mostly just to bug the dogs and stack piles of junk up in cool shapes. See that one over there? Looks like a bear, doesn’t it? Anyway, I leave them out food from my garden…they really like beets…and sometimes they’ll leave me stuff. Last time, it was four bottles of scotch, so, you know, SCORE!”

Gino, wanderer, Rome, Italy

I was 5 years old when I first encountered the Pitipati. Yes, right after things went bad. My father was dead and my mother was dying and I did not know what I was going to do. I was from a wealthy family, not a street kid, so I was not used to doing things to survive. The Pitipati came to me the day Mother died. I had heard bad things about them from adults, but they were very nice to me. Very gentle. They showed me that many people had planted gardens, where I could get vegetables and fruits to eat. They showed me how to fish and how to catch and milk a goat. They stayed with me for five years, until one night, when I was 10, when they must have decided that I was old enough to survive. That was nearly 20 years ago, and I will never say anything bad about the Pitipati…not even when I return to my camp and find my sleeping bag full of stones.”

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s