Making friends.

This is not a drill. I repeat, this is not a drill. Leave the mill immediately. Proceed to the exits marked "exit". We apologize for the absence of standard, lighted exit signs - crayon on cereal box will have to do.


Oh, hello. Sorry for the confusion - just affecting a temporary evacuation of the abandoned Cheney Hammer Mill. Actually, it's more complicated than it sounds. The place isn't actually abandoned in the sense of being vacant - just abandoned by its owners. We, the members and various hangers-on of Big Green, actually live there, and therefore must be told to leave the building when a) a natural or fire-related disaster strikes, b) the land agent arrives to chuck us out, or c) Mitch Macaphee, our mad science advisor, builds a more-dangerous-than-usual monster with which to amuse himself. (You know... just the usual things homeowners fret about day in and day out.) And we are faced with one of those exigencies today. See if you can guess which one. Go ahead... I'll just hum a little tune while you mull it over...




Oh, Dinos had a good time on the trolley,

Dinos had a good time at the fair!

Dinos had a holiday 'til the skies turned mean and gray

Their underbellies went a gushing jelly and they died in searing pain!



All set? Good. No, it wasn't number two, though that's the one everybody picks. And no, I'm sorry little Jennifer, it wasn't number one either... though part of this building is always on fire, we just don't pay it any attention. (Why encourage the gods of fire?) Nope, I'm afraid it's number three - little Mitch Macaphee, the Papa Geppetto of robots, cyborgs, and monstrosities. As you recall, he recently fashioned a Frankenstein's monster out of solid granite, then made the son of a bitch ambulatory. So that now when the smoke alarm goes off at 3:00 a.m., it isn't just Anti-Lincoln lighting up one of his acrid stogies... it's Frankenstone lighting up the man-sized tuber. WTF anyway!


Well, sure... that would be bad enough, right? And you'd think that Mitch would have learned his lesson and put his portable life force animation device back into mothballs, right? Not so. Nothing succeeds like success, as they say, especially in the land of mad scientists. I mean, what would the guy say to his colleagues at the next convention if all he had to show for his efforts over the preceding months was one... just one! ... monster carved out of stone? Embarrassing, to be sure. Also, between you and me, I think old Mitch has a problem meeting new friends. Now, making friends is something he's real good at. And he just keeps making more and more all the time. And some of them are proving a bit inconvenient, setting things on fire, spreading hazardous materials around the mill, etc. Hence our current dilemma (noxious gases - some of them, evidently, are trying to poison our asses, to borrow a line from Flight of the Conchords).


So, what to do? Well, first on the list - EVACUATE!!

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