I was going through a box of old letters a bit ago looking for something else and found a very random story which I thought I would share. Somehow it’s kind of the plot from City of Angels the relatively terrible Nic Cage/Meg Ryan flick from 1998. Why? I really don’t know.
The Lone Muskrat
One upon a time, Maggie accidentally killed one her patients during a routine foot fungus removal. It wasn’t a pretty death, but hey, the world’s probably better off without the guy; his foot was mighty disgusting.
Although most of the known universe clapped and “whoo-hoo’d” at his death, Maggie was distraught. She blamed herself for forgetting to secure his special breathing mask before taking off the bio-hazard footsie slippers and releasing all those noxious fumes. And, let’s be honest, while it was her fault that he died from her own carelessness, it’s a good thing for her that she thought quickly and secured the mask before calling for help. Saved the inquest people a lot of trouble and extra work and herself from a severe prison sentence. Perhaps even the gas chamber. Maggie had seen enough fatal fumes for one lifetime.
Even with her lucky swerve-avoid from prosecution, Maggie was still utterly despondent, contemplating suicide, the whole nine yards and maybe a few extra inches, who can tell without a ruler anyway and who ever has a ruler when they really need one?
But then an angel came to her aid and by simply looking at her cross-eyed, hopping around her on one foot and blowing raspberries, convinced her that life was worth living because there were pears out there for the taking. Even if they are shaped like a flat-chested, big-assed woman; pears are the secret to life. What, I ask you, does that say about our society?
So this angel, named Seth, (a very nice name, I liked it), thinks Maggie is mighty pretty and interesting even though he has lived for hundreds of millions of years and seen all the most beautiful women in the wold and in heaven. He decides this pear-loving, foot fungus killer freak toots his horn.
Except wait, Hey! He’s an angel. He’s not HUMAN. He can’t even touch his goldilocked nymph. What to do? What to dooooo? A friend of his provides the only possible solution by going swimming in the ocean. Seth thinks, “Ok. Why not? Might as well try it.” And then something so bizarre, so strange happened that it can only be described by illustration. And this was it.
The injustice of the situation was that although all the other angels became hippopotimi, one of them became a muskrat.
And he was The Lone Muskrat, a rebel to the end of his days.
He even became rabid for a short period of time and bit Maggie since he blamed her for Seth’s stupidity. She, of course, never had it treated and so died. Seth was at this point a tourist attraction at the local zoo along with all the other hippopotimi. Only The Lone Muskrat roamed free. So I guess really he was better off turned into a muskrat, being less stupid and hugely visible hanging out on a beach for capture.
Bonus. A poem about hippopotimi from the same box.
Still A Little Crazy: An Animal Poem
You might say they’re ugly
With their waddly-squat bodies
It’s possible you might even mention the word ‘dowdy’
But that’s not very likely
How I lust
I don’t think you’re gross
I don’t even find you fat.
All those rolls where I can get lost
Simply seem divine
How I wish to lie