Saturday, February 13, 2010
His mother was a sedentary amorphous blob in an uptown Philly sewer. His father was a strand of DNA from a radioactive gecko. Abandoned immediately following his unlikely birth, Geoffrey learned to fend for himself on the tough streets. He often envied the small children he saw playing in their parents' yards. Once or twice he summoned the courage to join their games, and a few times the young humans actually accepted him as an endearing if eccentric and glob-like playmate. Invariably, though, his streak of monstrous nuclear rage would get the best of him. To Geoffrey, a severed foot or devoured family dog were mere trifles--all part of a silly game of eat-the-flesh. However, such accidents tended to scare off his human companions.
More of Mary's work at: