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A routine he knew all too well. Phillip would wake up at six thirty in the morning and get out of bed slowly to make sure he did not wake his wife. He took a quick shower, and then opened his closet to see a line of lab coats all hung neatly and ready to wear, grabbing the whitest one. He then headed back to bed to kiss his wife on his cheek before he get to the kitchen and make breakfast. It is normally Omelet Tuesday, but he wanted to surprise his wife and daughter with blueberry chocolate pancakes.
Just as Phillip was about to leave for work, little footsteps approached from behind. “Have fun at work Daddy!” yelled May as she charged to her father for a hug. The footies on her Ratatouille pajamas almost made her slip on the varnished floor as she dashed towards him.
“You have to quiet down, Boo. Mommy is still sleeping,” whispered Phillip as he quickly turned around and kneeled to catch his daughter in full stride. Boo was a nickname he gave to his daughter because she has a striking resemblance to Boo in the movie Monsters Inc. “You do not need to wake up so early everyday to say bye to me.”
“But I want to,” replied May as she smiled and gave her father one last peck on the cheek before she noisily scurried back to her bedroom. Her pigtails bounced rhythmically for every step she took.
“I’m lucky her mother sleeps like a rock buried atop of rocks,” thought Phillip as he took one last glance before he left for work.
A barb wired fence surrounded the animal testing facility in order to keep the resilient crowd of hippies out. Phillip became accustomed to them surrounding his car and banging his beaten up Pinto with their picketing signs every time he drove through the security gate. The picket signs range from quotes as intelligent as “While We Progress in Technology, We Lack Humanity,” to as blunt as “Aminal Tezting Sukz, Yall are Murderrers.” Phillip always respected how hippies from various backgrounds can unify for a common cause. He didn’t hate the hippies, but he wished that they understood his situation better. He only lived five blocks away from work, but walking to work was out of the question due to fear of being bludgeoned by a crowd of hippies. At least, if the Ford Pinto ever decided to blow up by a particularly hard hit, he could take the crowd of hippies with him.
His job at the GenTech Animal Testing Facility was to kill sleeping mice. However, instead of a swift kill, a much more agonizing one is served. He sat in front of a conveyer belt, as it slowly rolled out unconscious mice. Syringes filled with the Disease of the Week were holstered around his belt, ready for the draw.
The room reeked of formaldehyde and the only thing Phillip could hear was the soft churning of the belt and the mumbled chatter of the researchers in the next room. The researchers were never nice to the workers that were beneath them, and would take every chance they could get to humiliate him just for their amusement. There was an instance where one of the researchers’ stuffed exploding dyes into one of the mice. When Phillip’s hypodermic needle penetrated the dye, it blew up the mouse and left mouse bits and blue dye all over his body. He was as blue as the Blue Man Group. Of course, they made him clean it up afterwards. When he got home, his alibi to May was that he wanted to surprise her as Sulley in Monster’s Inc, and so she got ecstatic and they reenacted scenes until her bedtime. That night, His wife scrubbed him for hours to get the blue dye off his face.
Phillip always hid the nature of his work from his daughter. May asked a couple days ago what he did at work. “Remember that I Love Lucy episode we saw where Lucy and Ethel wrap chocolates coming out of a machine. My job is kind of like that,” answered Phillip. It was the truth. His job was “kind of” like that.
“How yummy! You gotsa take me to work. Okay?” exclaimed May as her eyes widened in excitement. The thought of taking her daughter to work brought a huge chill up Phillip’s spine.
Well, unlike the famous I Love Lucy scene, he could not necessarily eat what is coming out. Luckily, it never came to a point where he was stuffing rats in his coat pockets, because the conveyer belt was spitting them out too fast. However, that is something the researchers would do to mess with him, so Phillip always sat next to the override button just in case. He knew the routine all too well; grab a rat, deliver their biological time bomb, and throw the empty syringe into the biohazard bin next to him. The conveyer belt would then take the infected rats to the next room where they would be “treated” by the researchers.
Phillip worked alone, but when he first started working at Gentech he actually did have an “Ethel” to work with. Ethel slacked off a lot so Phillip always had to pick up the extra weight in order for them to meet their quota, but it was much more bearable back then, as misery loves company. Then the time came when the researchers were forced by the Union to make a promotion. However, instead of a performance evaluation, the researchers decided it would be more fun to see who can keep a mouse in their mouths the longest, ala Survivor style. Ethel pounced on that mouse like a cat without a moment’s hesitation, but Phillip refused to do it. Needless to say, he didn’t get the promotion he thought he deserved. It was probably for the better. Injecting monkeys was even less humane.
On this particular day, Phillip would be serving HIV to his furry reluctant customers. Little does he know that today will not be like any other day. He grabbed an oddly warm mouse and took a syringe from his belt. As he was about to serve the mouse the deadly delicacy, the mouse sprung to life within his hands and bit him. The pain jolted his hand as he missed the mouse and plunged the syringe deep into his hand. Phillip dropped the mouse and the newly emptied syringe. A loud cry resonated through out the facility and Phillip stormed next door.
“I’ve got AIDS! I’ve got AIDS!” The researchers all stared at Phillip with the greatest confusion. “I accidently gave myself Aids! I need the cur…” and he stopped midsentence, realizing if there was a cure for aids he wouldn’t be employed in the first place. Just as Phillip was about to burst into tears for being stupid enough to give himself a disease he did not deserve, all the researchers burst into laughter.
“I’ve got AIDS too!” shouted the stocky researcher next to him, as he grabbed one of Philips syringes and pretends to sink the needle into his chubby arm. The milky contents squirt off to the side as the fat man stared deviously at Philip. The laughter roared even louder as Philip just stared dumbfounded. Another stocky researcher slapped him on the back with enough force to make him stumble forward. “Mouse Aids and human aids are different strains, dumb nut! It’s not virulent in humans. I can drink this shit and still keep my T-count higher than your IQ!”
Phillip dropped to his knees in humiliation. He got so swept up by the accident, that apparently the fundamentals of biology escaped him. He stayed on his knees with his body slouched and his head down. He raised his head ever so slightly to see virtually the entire lab gather around him, laughing, pointing, and staring. From the corner of his eye, he spotted Ethel, laughing tremendously as he mingled with the other researchers. Is this what his life has become? Is this what his future beholds? Phillip thought to himself. It was at that moment that Phillip made the decision. Amongst the roaring laughter of the researchers, he knew that he could no longer live like this.
Phillip let out a large roar that echoed throughout the lab as got off his knees. He tore his lab coat off and threw it down to his feet with the utmost force. He then unbuckled his belt and chucked it across the room where it slammed against the wall. A loud clattering sound rang as all the syringes shattered nearly simultaneously. The contents spilled to the floor. The room suddenly fell silent as the mood of the room turned from laughter to shock. Before the researchers had a chance to utter a single word, Phillip stormed out of the facility and raced off in his Pinto, narrowly running over some camping hippies. This was one mess he would not clean up.
As he drove home, the rage and tension slowly subsided, but new problem has rose. I am unemployed, Phillip thought to himself. Money does not grow on trees, and he has a family to provide for. When he got home, he stood on his little porch, staring at the front door for what could have been hours, just contemplating his situation. He kept clenching his cell phone in his pocket, wondering whether or not to call work and apologize. Then, a familiar scuttling sounded off behind the front door from within the house. Finally, the door flew open and May darted towards her father in anticipation, hugging his knees.
“I drew something for you Daddy!” called out May as she held the paper up to her face with both hands, like how Wilson would look over the fence in Home Improvement. It took a while for him to figure out what he was looking at, but when he did, an uncontrollable smile ran across his face. It was a crayon drawing of him in front of a chocolate conveyer belt, and standing next to him was her daughter holding his hand. “I <3 DADD” was written as carefully as she could across the top of the drawing. Phillip gave his daughter a huge hug that lifted her off her footies. He tried hard hold back his tears of joy, but a couple escaped. All the uncertainties of the future faded, as for what lies ahead could not possibly be as bad as what laid behind.
“Did you have fun at work Daddy?” asked May, still in grips of her father’s embrace.
“Yea,” replied Phillip as he held back a sly grin, “yea I did, Boo. I actually did.”
Just as Phillip was about to leave for work, little footsteps approached from behind. “Have fun at work Daddy!” yelled May as she charged to her father for a hug. The footies on her Ratatouille pajamas almost made her slip on the varnished floor as she dashed towards him.
“You have to quiet down, Boo. Mommy is still sleeping,” whispered Phillip as he quickly turned around and kneeled to catch his daughter in full stride. Boo was a nickname he gave to his daughter because she has a striking resemblance to Boo in the movie Monsters Inc. “You do not need to wake up so early everyday to say bye to me.”
“But I want to,” replied May as she smiled and gave her father one last peck on the cheek before she noisily scurried back to her bedroom. Her pigtails bounced rhythmically for every step she took.
“I’m lucky her mother sleeps like a rock buried atop of rocks,” thought Phillip as he took one last glance before he left for work.
A barb wired fence surrounded the animal testing facility in order to keep the resilient crowd of hippies out. Phillip became accustomed to them surrounding his car and banging his beaten up Pinto with their picketing signs every time he drove through the security gate. The picket signs range from quotes as intelligent as “While We Progress in Technology, We Lack Humanity,” to as blunt as “Aminal Tezting Sukz, Yall are Murderrers.” Phillip always respected how hippies from various backgrounds can unify for a common cause. He didn’t hate the hippies, but he wished that they understood his situation better. He only lived five blocks away from work, but walking to work was out of the question due to fear of being bludgeoned by a crowd of hippies. At least, if the Ford Pinto ever decided to blow up by a particularly hard hit, he could take the crowd of hippies with him.
His job at the GenTech Animal Testing Facility was to kill sleeping mice. However, instead of a swift kill, a much more agonizing one is served. He sat in front of a conveyer belt, as it slowly rolled out unconscious mice. Syringes filled with the Disease of the Week were holstered around his belt, ready for the draw.
The room reeked of formaldehyde and the only thing Phillip could hear was the soft churning of the belt and the mumbled chatter of the researchers in the next room. The researchers were never nice to the workers that were beneath them, and would take every chance they could get to humiliate him just for their amusement. There was an instance where one of the researchers’ stuffed exploding dyes into one of the mice. When Phillip’s hypodermic needle penetrated the dye, it blew up the mouse and left mouse bits and blue dye all over his body. He was as blue as the Blue Man Group. Of course, they made him clean it up afterwards. When he got home, his alibi to May was that he wanted to surprise her as Sulley in Monster’s Inc, and so she got ecstatic and they reenacted scenes until her bedtime. That night, His wife scrubbed him for hours to get the blue dye off his face.
Phillip always hid the nature of his work from his daughter. May asked a couple days ago what he did at work. “Remember that I Love Lucy episode we saw where Lucy and Ethel wrap chocolates coming out of a machine. My job is kind of like that,” answered Phillip. It was the truth. His job was “kind of” like that.
“How yummy! You gotsa take me to work. Okay?” exclaimed May as her eyes widened in excitement. The thought of taking her daughter to work brought a huge chill up Phillip’s spine.
Well, unlike the famous I Love Lucy scene, he could not necessarily eat what is coming out. Luckily, it never came to a point where he was stuffing rats in his coat pockets, because the conveyer belt was spitting them out too fast. However, that is something the researchers would do to mess with him, so Phillip always sat next to the override button just in case. He knew the routine all too well; grab a rat, deliver their biological time bomb, and throw the empty syringe into the biohazard bin next to him. The conveyer belt would then take the infected rats to the next room where they would be “treated” by the researchers.
Phillip worked alone, but when he first started working at Gentech he actually did have an “Ethel” to work with. Ethel slacked off a lot so Phillip always had to pick up the extra weight in order for them to meet their quota, but it was much more bearable back then, as misery loves company. Then the time came when the researchers were forced by the Union to make a promotion. However, instead of a performance evaluation, the researchers decided it would be more fun to see who can keep a mouse in their mouths the longest, ala Survivor style. Ethel pounced on that mouse like a cat without a moment’s hesitation, but Phillip refused to do it. Needless to say, he didn’t get the promotion he thought he deserved. It was probably for the better. Injecting monkeys was even less humane.
On this particular day, Phillip would be serving HIV to his furry reluctant customers. Little does he know that today will not be like any other day. He grabbed an oddly warm mouse and took a syringe from his belt. As he was about to serve the mouse the deadly delicacy, the mouse sprung to life within his hands and bit him. The pain jolted his hand as he missed the mouse and plunged the syringe deep into his hand. Phillip dropped the mouse and the newly emptied syringe. A loud cry resonated through out the facility and Phillip stormed next door.
“I’ve got AIDS! I’ve got AIDS!” The researchers all stared at Phillip with the greatest confusion. “I accidently gave myself Aids! I need the cur…” and he stopped midsentence, realizing if there was a cure for aids he wouldn’t be employed in the first place. Just as Phillip was about to burst into tears for being stupid enough to give himself a disease he did not deserve, all the researchers burst into laughter.
“I’ve got AIDS too!” shouted the stocky researcher next to him, as he grabbed one of Philips syringes and pretends to sink the needle into his chubby arm. The milky contents squirt off to the side as the fat man stared deviously at Philip. The laughter roared even louder as Philip just stared dumbfounded. Another stocky researcher slapped him on the back with enough force to make him stumble forward. “Mouse Aids and human aids are different strains, dumb nut! It’s not virulent in humans. I can drink this shit and still keep my T-count higher than your IQ!”
Phillip dropped to his knees in humiliation. He got so swept up by the accident, that apparently the fundamentals of biology escaped him. He stayed on his knees with his body slouched and his head down. He raised his head ever so slightly to see virtually the entire lab gather around him, laughing, pointing, and staring. From the corner of his eye, he spotted Ethel, laughing tremendously as he mingled with the other researchers. Is this what his life has become? Is this what his future beholds? Phillip thought to himself. It was at that moment that Phillip made the decision. Amongst the roaring laughter of the researchers, he knew that he could no longer live like this.
Phillip let out a large roar that echoed throughout the lab as got off his knees. He tore his lab coat off and threw it down to his feet with the utmost force. He then unbuckled his belt and chucked it across the room where it slammed against the wall. A loud clattering sound rang as all the syringes shattered nearly simultaneously. The contents spilled to the floor. The room suddenly fell silent as the mood of the room turned from laughter to shock. Before the researchers had a chance to utter a single word, Phillip stormed out of the facility and raced off in his Pinto, narrowly running over some camping hippies. This was one mess he would not clean up.
As he drove home, the rage and tension slowly subsided, but new problem has rose. I am unemployed, Phillip thought to himself. Money does not grow on trees, and he has a family to provide for. When he got home, he stood on his little porch, staring at the front door for what could have been hours, just contemplating his situation. He kept clenching his cell phone in his pocket, wondering whether or not to call work and apologize. Then, a familiar scuttling sounded off behind the front door from within the house. Finally, the door flew open and May darted towards her father in anticipation, hugging his knees.
“I drew something for you Daddy!” called out May as she held the paper up to her face with both hands, like how Wilson would look over the fence in Home Improvement. It took a while for him to figure out what he was looking at, but when he did, an uncontrollable smile ran across his face. It was a crayon drawing of him in front of a chocolate conveyer belt, and standing next to him was her daughter holding his hand. “I <3 DADD” was written as carefully as she could across the top of the drawing. Phillip gave his daughter a huge hug that lifted her off her footies. He tried hard hold back his tears of joy, but a couple escaped. All the uncertainties of the future faded, as for what lies ahead could not possibly be as bad as what laid behind.
“Did you have fun at work Daddy?” asked May, still in grips of her father’s embrace.
“Yea,” replied Phillip as he held back a sly grin, “yea I did, Boo. I actually did.”
My final short short story i wrote for my Creative Story Telling Class. It's about Phillip, a working class family man that works at an animal testing facility as a mouse injector. I tried writing a heartfelt comedy, because everyone in class
STORY EVALUATION
My short story went through numerous changes before it hit the final result. My very first draft was a “love” story on adolescence in theater, but I quickly scrapped that idea due to the fact that it was too trite and clichéd. I really wanted to stand out in the class by writing a heartfelt comedy. I’m sure you read enough stories based off various types of suicide and other horrific and ambiguous endings. I know I have.
The scenes at the animal testing facility were originally supposed to be a flashback of a defining moment in Philip’s life that concreted his decision to open a restaurant. I wanted to create this karmic ludicrous comedy on how his life’s work was about to be abolished by the very thing he use to infect for a living. The second significant character was supposed to be the Wesley, the idiotic brother that brought the mice in his restaurant during the health inspection in the first place as “ pets.” I really wanted to capture a Monty Python feel. Of course, all this completely changed, while some loved my original concept, most of the critiques suggested I abandon it.
Most of my critiques consisted of creating another significant character and creating more obstacles and reasoning. I had really mixed critiques on whether I should make the story more absurd, or more humanistic. I did a little of both. I thought it was better to spend the remainder of my story to develop a family for Philip, as well as a quick commentary on working class. I was going to make Philip a single dad with a daughter, but then I realized that leaving his daughter home alone while he was at work wasn’t the best idea. I only added “the wife” as a means to justify that, thus why I never formally named her. The daughter was the “other” main character my critics so sorely wanted. Ethel was thrown in as a commentary on how the working class would do just about anything to get ahead.
I had some issues between realism versus absurdness. As outlandish as the mouse conveyer belt is, I really wanted to keep that in to a point where I extended it with Ethel. I thought it was rather funny how my critics love that detail, but wanted some parts to be realistic. Yes, it is true that there are different strains of the same disease which humans cannot contract. I also knew about the whole HIV and AIDs thing, but I thought yelling “I’ve got AIDs” flowed much better than “I’ve got HIV!” Critics love the T-count line, but if you think about it, it makes no sense as well. I added more absurd obstacles concocted by the researchers to help develop Philip as a character. The absurdness is what keeps the reader reading, the realism is what gives it a lasting effect.
In the end, I’m actually somewhat proud of my story, despite the fact that it is almost nothing how I envisioned it in the first place! I love the conveyer belt scene so much that I started storyboarding it for my perspective class. I hope to make a short animation of that gag in the future. I wanted to create a story that is unlike anything people have read, and hopefully I achieved that. The next time my readers hear the word “Animal Testing Facility,” I hope they’ll think of Philip.
STORY EVALUATION
My short story went through numerous changes before it hit the final result. My very first draft was a “love” story on adolescence in theater, but I quickly scrapped that idea due to the fact that it was too trite and clichéd. I really wanted to stand out in the class by writing a heartfelt comedy. I’m sure you read enough stories based off various types of suicide and other horrific and ambiguous endings. I know I have.
The scenes at the animal testing facility were originally supposed to be a flashback of a defining moment in Philip’s life that concreted his decision to open a restaurant. I wanted to create this karmic ludicrous comedy on how his life’s work was about to be abolished by the very thing he use to infect for a living. The second significant character was supposed to be the Wesley, the idiotic brother that brought the mice in his restaurant during the health inspection in the first place as “ pets.” I really wanted to capture a Monty Python feel. Of course, all this completely changed, while some loved my original concept, most of the critiques suggested I abandon it.
Most of my critiques consisted of creating another significant character and creating more obstacles and reasoning. I had really mixed critiques on whether I should make the story more absurd, or more humanistic. I did a little of both. I thought it was better to spend the remainder of my story to develop a family for Philip, as well as a quick commentary on working class. I was going to make Philip a single dad with a daughter, but then I realized that leaving his daughter home alone while he was at work wasn’t the best idea. I only added “the wife” as a means to justify that, thus why I never formally named her. The daughter was the “other” main character my critics so sorely wanted. Ethel was thrown in as a commentary on how the working class would do just about anything to get ahead.
I had some issues between realism versus absurdness. As outlandish as the mouse conveyer belt is, I really wanted to keep that in to a point where I extended it with Ethel. I thought it was rather funny how my critics love that detail, but wanted some parts to be realistic. Yes, it is true that there are different strains of the same disease which humans cannot contract. I also knew about the whole HIV and AIDs thing, but I thought yelling “I’ve got AIDs” flowed much better than “I’ve got HIV!” Critics love the T-count line, but if you think about it, it makes no sense as well. I added more absurd obstacles concocted by the researchers to help develop Philip as a character. The absurdness is what keeps the reader reading, the realism is what gives it a lasting effect.
In the end, I’m actually somewhat proud of my story, despite the fact that it is almost nothing how I envisioned it in the first place! I love the conveyer belt scene so much that I started storyboarding it for my perspective class. I hope to make a short animation of that gag in the future. I wanted to create a story that is unlike anything people have read, and hopefully I achieved that. The next time my readers hear the word “Animal Testing Facility,” I hope they’ll think of Philip.
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