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The baby appeared almost normal. He cried at the right time, waved his little fists around and demonstrated a very well developed nursing reflex. Skin tone was a little off, though. Too ruddy. Not dark, just too much blood right under the surface. And his cranium was a bit depressed, maybe even lumpy. But that happens sometimes too. So they washed him off, smeared him with the usual anti-bacterial crap and passed him down the line.
Daddy thought he looked all right. Mommy couldn't tell. She loved him and all, just thought he looked a wee bit unusual. The paternal pop-pop said - Wow! We got a little line backer there, lemme tell you!... The maternal mom-mom just went - Hummm.
So they sat there in the almost motel-like 'mothers' room,' pretending to watch Vana White tickle old fashioned TV screens and thought. Kid had too much hair. Even had teeny-tiny, black, glossy ones lying flat against the skin of his meaty forearms. Who'd they have there, Paul Bunyan? Nurses came in and all. Did all the regular stuff. But they looked at him funny. New mommy saw. She picked up on it. She said - What are you 'looking' for? What's a matter?... The older, skinny nurse patted her leg and said - Oh, we're just doing our job. We're just doing our job. Wow, he's a real bruiser, there, ain't he?
Twenty minutes later, when the family filed out, they air kissed the mommy (gotta be careful. don't wanna give her no germs), gave dirty looks to a doctor doing his best to avoid eye contact over by the nurses' station and stopped to see the infants in the baby zoo. About six of them in there. The two born before theirs seemed OK. But 'Liam' (that's his name) and the three who came after all had that same, dopey look. One stranger-lady said - Oh, look! They must be related..... Pop-pop turned and said - No, they're not..... But she just said - Oh...and proceeded to suck her teeth.
Daddy was real quiet, though. Kissed his mom. Hugged his dad, got in the car (think it was a cool, looking mustang) and drove back home..... Actually, he needed to stop for toilet paper, but he didn't. Just didn't feel like it.
Pop-pop turned on the TV at his place. He likes the news. Watches news stations.... Mom-mom said - Jesus Christ! Turn that the hell off! I wanna talk about the baby!.... But the guy on the screen was saying something. So he just told her to go to hell.
TV guy said - According to unnamed sources, every baby born since eight thirty p.m. at Lou Costello Memorial Hospital in Los Angeles, California exhibits signs of the same, mysterious, muscular-cranial abnormality. Some have taken to calling it 'Fred Flintstone Syndrome.' ..... Then they showed video... Little Liam had the same look. Even mom-mom saw it.
And every birth, thereafter was the same. They all resembled Fred Flintstone. Some were dark. Some were light. French babies. Chinese babies. Colombian babies. Israeli babies.
You see, the universe is a big place and not every life form looks like we do. I'm talking about Earth life, slugs and gerbils and praying mantis' and all that. Some 'people' are smoke. Others, little black orbs that bounce through eternity. For the last sixty thousand years or so, we've been studied by one of them. Not just us, the whole planet. We've been thoroughly examined by a somewhat neurotic, though extremely curious, virus cloud. Not a dense cloud. This 'individual' is quite nebulous. Our eyes were his eyes. Our hands were his hands. And our genitals were his genitals too.
But now the term is over. The paper's all done. School's out for the summer. And 'he' doesn't need us anymore. So the great viral cloud rose up above the solar plane and looked down for a moment before drifting off to places yet unknown. That happened right before Liam was born. The elixir is gone. The juice is turned off. And we are all alone, just as we were all those many thousands of years ago.
The Body Snatcher has left the building. And what we call evolution was but a temporary, laboratory manipulation.
A new hominid walks the earth, or rather an old, original one. Behold... MUNDO NEANDERTHALIS....
And we are just the prey. ....... Zombies, but without all the viscous goo.
At first we cherished them and raised them as our own. Then we tried to lock them away. A few defeatists called for universal, human sterilization. But what if we discover a 'cure.'?
So now we all just run...
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Daddy thought he looked all right. Mommy couldn't tell. She loved him and all, just thought he looked a wee bit unusual. The paternal pop-pop said - Wow! We got a little line backer there, lemme tell you!... The maternal mom-mom just went - Hummm.
So they sat there in the almost motel-like 'mothers' room,' pretending to watch Vana White tickle old fashioned TV screens and thought. Kid had too much hair. Even had teeny-tiny, black, glossy ones lying flat against the skin of his meaty forearms. Who'd they have there, Paul Bunyan? Nurses came in and all. Did all the regular stuff. But they looked at him funny. New mommy saw. She picked up on it. She said - What are you 'looking' for? What's a matter?... The older, skinny nurse patted her leg and said - Oh, we're just doing our job. We're just doing our job. Wow, he's a real bruiser, there, ain't he?
Twenty minutes later, when the family filed out, they air kissed the mommy (gotta be careful. don't wanna give her no germs), gave dirty looks to a doctor doing his best to avoid eye contact over by the nurses' station and stopped to see the infants in the baby zoo. About six of them in there. The two born before theirs seemed OK. But 'Liam' (that's his name) and the three who came after all had that same, dopey look. One stranger-lady said - Oh, look! They must be related..... Pop-pop turned and said - No, they're not..... But she just said - Oh...and proceeded to suck her teeth.
Daddy was real quiet, though. Kissed his mom. Hugged his dad, got in the car (think it was a cool, looking mustang) and drove back home..... Actually, he needed to stop for toilet paper, but he didn't. Just didn't feel like it.
Pop-pop turned on the TV at his place. He likes the news. Watches news stations.... Mom-mom said - Jesus Christ! Turn that the hell off! I wanna talk about the baby!.... But the guy on the screen was saying something. So he just told her to go to hell.
TV guy said - According to unnamed sources, every baby born since eight thirty p.m. at Lou Costello Memorial Hospital in Los Angeles, California exhibits signs of the same, mysterious, muscular-cranial abnormality. Some have taken to calling it 'Fred Flintstone Syndrome.' ..... Then they showed video... Little Liam had the same look. Even mom-mom saw it.
And every birth, thereafter was the same. They all resembled Fred Flintstone. Some were dark. Some were light. French babies. Chinese babies. Colombian babies. Israeli babies.
You see, the universe is a big place and not every life form looks like we do. I'm talking about Earth life, slugs and gerbils and praying mantis' and all that. Some 'people' are smoke. Others, little black orbs that bounce through eternity. For the last sixty thousand years or so, we've been studied by one of them. Not just us, the whole planet. We've been thoroughly examined by a somewhat neurotic, though extremely curious, virus cloud. Not a dense cloud. This 'individual' is quite nebulous. Our eyes were his eyes. Our hands were his hands. And our genitals were his genitals too.
But now the term is over. The paper's all done. School's out for the summer. And 'he' doesn't need us anymore. So the great viral cloud rose up above the solar plane and looked down for a moment before drifting off to places yet unknown. That happened right before Liam was born. The elixir is gone. The juice is turned off. And we are all alone, just as we were all those many thousands of years ago.
The Body Snatcher has left the building. And what we call evolution was but a temporary, laboratory manipulation.
A new hominid walks the earth, or rather an old, original one. Behold... MUNDO NEANDERTHALIS....
And we are just the prey. ....... Zombies, but without all the viscous goo.
At first we cherished them and raised them as our own. Then we tried to lock them away. A few defeatists called for universal, human sterilization. But what if we discover a 'cure.'?
So now we all just run...
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