Notes from the Mad Science Lab: Voltures

Do you have a private laboratory or secret lair hidden out in the desert? Are you concerned with finding the right balance between security and discretion? Do you need sophisticated, versatile, highly-mobile guards who won't attract attention to your activities? 

Well, Savage Labs has the answer for you: Voltures! Our solar-powered, self-sustaining drones are equipped with the latest in sensory equipment and intrusion detection technology, guided by a state of the art artificial intelligence capable of distinguishing between innocent desert animals, mood-altered teenagers who took a wrong turn, and attempted trespass by agents of your rival mad scientists or overbearing government agencies. 

And should they detect a potential issue, the Savage Labs MK IV SPSS Voltures are able to deliver a controlled electric shock capable of anything from startling to a mouse to dropping a rhinocerous. 

Yet, until their defense algorithms are tripped, SSPS Voltures are indistinguishable from ordinary desert scavengers: they flap, they circle, they sometimes come down to the ground as if something tasty had died. Intruders won't see anything unusual until it's far too late. Savage Labs Voltures offer the perfect mix of discretion and defense. Purchase yours today!

Savage Labs: where Mad Science helps keep the world safe for Mad Science.

Fluidized Sand

It's been a while since the Mad Scientist has checked in, but here's a bit of coolness in case you've been missing it:

This was the genesis of Firstborn's Science Fair project. If you listen carefully, you'll hear the guy in the video say something like, "We went through about twenty-five versions before we got it to work." Annnnnnnnnd, yeah, that sounds about right. Sheesh.

The Great Platypus Hoax

Based on a story prompt from my friend Ruth Hougey Riggan...

"That can't be," said Dr. Braun, looking away from the video.

"I took the video myself," Tt. Janya Lorin met his eyes, then looked at the video again.

Dr. Braun touched a control and the screen froze, showing the face of his colleague Dr. Nuftin, smiling as she opened the cage and set a breeding pair of platypuses loose in the unpolluted wilderness of the Quaternary period. "Linda would never..."

"Linda?" asked Tt. Lorin. "Dr. Nuftin is well-known for her quirky sense of humor."

Dr. Braun squeezed his eyes shut, then chuckled. "So the platypus really *is* a hoax, as its European discoverers originally thought."

"Well... not a hoax, exactly. The species clearly exists. I've checked the logs on Dr. Nuftin's lab time as well as her timecore access, and I don't think she even engineered them. She appears to be taking members of the existing species, and carrying them back in time to make sure that the species will exist."

"What?" asked Dr. Braun, aghast. "But that's ridiculous! They have to come from somewhere. If they don't evolve on their own, but aren't engineered and taken back either, it could create all sorts of paradoxes. The potential effects on the timeline, on reality itself, are incalculable."

"We're aware of that," said Tt. Lorin. "That's precisely the sort of thing that Timeline Oversight was created to prevent."

"Well," said Dr. Braun, after a moment. "Dr. Nuftin should be in her office now. I suppose you'd like me to take you there?"

"Not necessary," answered Tt. Lorin. "We already have her in custody. Given the potential severity of this matter, we've had her in custody since before she began this project. This is just a courtesy visit, to inform you that we've arrested a senior member of your research staff before you hired her."

"I... I see," Dr. Braun replied slowly. "Then you don't need anything from me?"

"That's all," confirmed Tt. Lorin. "I'm sorry it happened like this, but there's nothing else we can do. I hope the rest of your afternoon will have been more pleasant."

"Thank you," he said, and watched as she turned smartly and let herself back out of the cluttered confines of his office.

That was it for today, he decided. He wasn't going to get any work done after this. An evening sitting on the couch, watching murder mysteries while his pet jackalope Snuggles cuddled beside him, sounded like just the relief he needed.

Forget the Election. Be afraid of Octopuses.

Also, figure out whether it's supposed to be Octopuses or Octopi, so we don't offend them.

Job Woes

You know, if there's one thing I hate, it's coming in for an ordinary day of work and finding out that the team has messed up so badly that they've opened a rift to other worlds rife with hostile intelligences and dangerous beasts, and leaving me to figure out some way to survive all these things and close the portal, so that the world can go mostly back to normal. I swear, it happens like every three weeks around here. And yet, do they budget for better equipment or even a few more batteries? No. I'll be fighting for my life and fending off extradimensional horrors with nothing more than a crowbar and an HEV suit that's still at 18% charge. Every. Single Time. It's inexcusable.

I swear, the only reason OSHA hasn't closed us down is because our work is so technologically cutting-edge that there's absolutely no precedents for safety protocols. Well, that and I'm pretty sure the administration is bribing the everloving hell out of the inspectors.

I've got a buddy over at Aperture Labs who says he can get me a job there. I may take it. I'm pretty sure it would be safer than working here.

Notes from the Mad Science Lab: Glow In The Dark Spiders

Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. Today, Savage Laboratories is pleased to announce the release of our latest invention.

In this cage is an ordinary house spider, Parasteatoda tepidariorum. Johan, can you put that on the screen? Excellent. Now, the American House Spider is generally harmless, and helps keep typical houses free of other pests. However, they are also a source of fear and revulsion for many people. Indeed, my new girlfriend has a morbid fear of spiders, and asked me to "do something about them" after accidentally encountering a spiderweb in the back yard one evening. My son, on the other hand, finds the creatures fascinating, and forbade me to destroy them.

Such challenges, I submit to you, are the very heart and soul of Mad Science.

So, if you will return your attention to the screen, I will demonstrate the Savage Labs solution to "the spider problem". Observe what happens as we lower the lights in the room... That's right, the spider is glowing. Now you need no longer fear that you might be surprised by the unexpected appearance of a spider in your house. All you need do is turn off the lights, and you will immediately know the location of every spider around.

Clearly, a single spider is not sufficient by itself, so you be pleased to hear that within the next three to five years, all spiders will glow just as this one does. Indeed, owing to the nature of the retroviral delivery system we have employed to make these changes, the effect will be visible on all forms of arachnids. And, before you ask, the chances that the virus will cross the species boundary and create a race of blood-drinking, eight-limbed superhumans are actually quite small.

Mad Science, ladies and gentlemen: making the world better for you, each and every day.

Notes from the Mad Science Lab: Attenuated Plague

As of three days ago, everyone in the lab is sick. That includes myself, my two assistants, the crypto-zookeeper, and five support personnel. Symptoms included all the usual "flu-like" qualities, and then some: high fever, nausea, mucus, headaches, muscular weakness, lack of energy, diarrhea, swollen joints, hair loss, dizziness, and in one case (the janitor) even stigmata.

This... shouldn't be possible. Not only is this unlike any known disease, you would not believe the precautions we take against viral and bacterial threats. No, something like this would have to be introduced deliberately.

I was making a list of my enemies peers, and considering which of them might have been responsible, when another possibility occurred to me. Even with the cerebral edema, I couldn't believe I didn't think of it earlier. But we came down with this, all of us, all at once, about three days after my son came by for his scheduled visitation. My fifteen-year-old son, who had just spent the last month getting over a particularly nasty case of the flu. My son, who likes to play with the gene sequencer.

Sure enough, when I checked the logs on the sequencer, I found that he'd been tinkering with a virus. He must have introduced it to all of us, deliberately.

So I called him up and asked him why he was trying to kill us.

Unsurprisingly, he said he wasn't actually trying to kill us. "If my calculations are correct," he told me, "there's only about a four percent chance of death, if you have proper medical care. It's an attenuated strain."

An attenuated strain of what, exactly? "Everything," he told me. "Measles, polio, West Nile, influenza, HIV, strep, Ebola, mono, herpes... it has pieces of all the heavy hitters."

"So it's a super-plague?"

"An attenuated super-plague," he said. I waited, and he explained: "I mean, yeah, it's still pretty horrible, but once you get over it you should be highly resistant to just about everything."

So... fine. My son has inoculated us, and he probably hasn't killed us. And he said he wouldn't release it into the general population; a four percent mortality rate would cause a lot of chaos. So everything is probably fine.

Probably.

Animal Magnetism

Notes from the Mad Science Lab: Bulletproof Squirrels

On the way home from dinner last night -- in a perfectly ordinary car, after eating at a perfectly ordinary restaurant; one must keep up appearances, after all -- we found a squirrel in the road. It had obviously been struck by a car, but it hadn't been killed outright. Instead, it was sort of dazed and staggering around.

My son is now twelve, and I fear he has grown a bit... sensitive. He asked me to save the poor beast. It was easy enough that I didn't mind indulging him, so I pulled a Collector from the trunk and sent it scuttling over on its spidery robotic legs. It unfolded its collecting unit, boxed the the squirrel up, and brought it back. Naturally, when we reached the house, my son took possession of the beast and carried it down to the secret lab.

I had meant to oversee his work, but my assistant, Cara stopped me on the way in. Apparently the Crypto-Zookeeper was having trouble with some sort of fungal outbreak. It didn't turn out to be terribly difficult to resolve, but these things do have a way of getting out of hand if you don't deal with them immediately. So it wasn't until a bit later that I was able to catch up with my son.

The squirrel had not only survived its experience, it was moving around and chittering quietly in a brand-new cage at one end of the Mortal Sciences Laboratory. My son was happy to see the beast restored to life, awareness, and energy; and for my part, I was pleased by the sophistication of the repairs he had made to it. Cybernetic limbs are tricky to manage on a human scale; for something the size of a squirrel, it requires a precisely calculated design, and delicate touch during the augmentation. He'd managed it, though: a tiny metal foreleg, fully articulated and under the beast's control (through a liquid crystal neural interface, he tells me; not terribly novel, but there's something to be said for using a classic approach, and the small scale was still impressive). He'd also reinforced the spine, using a nano-mesh sheath to hold everything together without any loss of flexibility.

I asked him why he hadn't gone for a full cybernetic conversion, and he said: "Well, then it wouldn't be cute and fluffy anymore." Definitely sensitive. He added some additional reasons, though: in its current condition, it could still live on its regular diet, it wouldn't have to re-learn balance and movement, and the odds of it going completely insane and trying to kill us were much lower. And I must admit, those are all valid points. It's just that I'm quite certain that for my son they ranked considerably lower than "cute and fluffy".

This would all be nothing more than an amusing anecdote, another milestone in my son's development that I could chuckle over with my colleagues and perhaps even share with the boy's mother, except... Well, one of the neighbors stopped me yesterday. (I was collecting the mail, and she was walking her dog.) She asked me if I'd been having any trouble with, yes, squirrels. I explained that I had not, and asked after what sorts of troubles she had in mind. She told me that a squirrel had chewed its way into her attic, but apparently she was far from the only one having difficulty with them.

Our neighborhood, it seems, has been infested with a new and hardy breed of squirrels. They're every bit as fast and agile as regular squirrels, or close enough; but they've begun to chew through vinyl siding, sheets of tin, and one of those metal no-kill cages that our local Animal Services department loans out to people who need to get rid of pests. One neighbor, a fellow up the street, swears that he ran over one of the animals -- it darted out in front of his car, as squirrels sometimes do -- and it shrugged off the impact, bit clean through the tire, and then zipped up a nearby tree... where it sat and threw acorns at his head (with, apparently, somewhat alarming accuracy) while he tried to change the flat tire.

They aren't hostile (yet), but they're definitely a nuisance. I fear my son has been at it again, and I'll have to ask him what he's done when I get my time with him this weekend.

Notes from the Mad Science Lab: Baby Changing Station

Tabitha, my lab assistant, has... instructed me to provide some background and context before I describe my latest invention. Since her advice on such topics has proven useful in the past, I offer you all the following anecdote:

Three weeks ago, there was a small -- and, I assure you completely harmless -- implosion in the Mad Science Kitchen, which released a cloud of noxious gas which rendered everything in the neighborhood inedible and the kitchen itself unusable. As a result of this unfortunate incident, I took Tabitha out to dinner at not-terribly-nearby restaurant, and gave Armando (the crypto-zookeeper) permission to order pizza for the rest of the staff.

Whilst in the restaurant, I was intrigued to see that the sign for the gentlemen's restroom advertised the presence of baby changing station inside. Imagine my disappointment when I discovered that this was merely a small platform that folded down from the wall. Tabitha assured me that this was so that beleaguered parents would have a place to change their children's clothes.

Now, please don't misunderstand. I have nothing against putting babies in fresh diapers. I am well aware that the young of our species, as a result of their internal biological processes, can produce output that ranges anywhere from the mildly eye-watering to full-scale violations of the Geneva Conventions regarding bacteriological warfare and the use of poisonous gases. Cleaning all that away and replacing it with a fresh diaper is not only a kindness to the child; it may well be the closest thing to a universal moral imperative that human beings are capable of recognizing.

Nevertheless, I was disappointed. A baby changing station should be able to do so much more. With that in mind, I present to you the Savage Labs Full-Featured Baby Changing Station. Offering a comprehensive range of options, the Savage Labs Full-Featured Baby Changing Station improves on the current models in every possible way.

To begin with, I have automated the process completely. Now, when you pull the table down from the wall, the station is programmed to offer you a complementary pair of nose plugs. Using advanced 3-D modeling techniques, the station will then ascertain the location and position of your child, and remove any dirty clothing. Dirty clothes are dropped into in a sealed hopper, which delivers them safely to the wall-mounted fusion reactor, simultaneously disposing of the foulness and powering the changing station.

The Savage Labs Full-Featured Baby Changing Station then uses a combination of cleaning sprays and wipers to clean your child -- quickly, completely, and (above all) gently. While this is underway, the touch-screen monitor will extend to offer you a range of baby-changing options. The colors of your child's eyes, hair, and skin can all be modified based on your selections; height at full growth can be pre-selected; IQ can be raised (but remember, smart children tend to be less biddable than their less imaginative companions!); muscle mass can be added, if desired; and metabolism can be tuned to meet your needs.

If you aren't happy with the results, they can easily be changed by another visit to a Savage Labs Full-Featured Baby Changing Station. Owing to the nature of our unique, soon-to-be-patented retroviral nanogen technology, we recommend waiting a full three weeks between visits. This is partly to ensure that your child doesn't accidentally develop gills, but mainly to give you, the doting parent, time to properly evaluate the changes in your beloved offspring.

Savage Labs Full-Featured Baby Changing Stations: just another way that mad science is making the world better... for you.

Notes from the Mad Science Lab: Self-Defense Breakfast Exposition

Ah, ladies and gentlemen! Welcome, one and all. Welcome... to the Mad Science Self-Defense Breakfast Exposition!

Before we begin, take a moment to survey the delightful repast in front of you. Here at the Mad Science Consortium, our researchers have worker very hard to ensure that all of our self-defense foodstuffs are a perfect match for the finest of ordinary foods. In taste, texture, and smell, you will find that your breakfast is indistinguishable from the work of the finest chefs. It is only on close inspection that the vital, life-saving differences become apparent.

Let's begin with an examination of our bagels. Go ahead and pick them up; in their current state, they're completely harmless - and, indeed, substantially more nutritious than ordinary bagels. Watch, however, as I touch my bagel with the catalyst point on the end of my knife... and toss it at our simulated intruder... Quite an explosion, isn't it? More than sufficient to take out even a small group of attackers, let alone an individual. For added effect, the cream cheese can be activated with the same catalyst, turning it into a combustible gel that burns at over two thousand, five hundred degrees Kelvin - hot enough to melt lead and immolate intruders.

Next up is our razor-edged bacon, lovingly harvested from nanite-enhanced pigs. Our unique laser-carving process also serves to cook the bacon, giving it that crispy, flavorful quality. Handle it carefully, folks! The edges are sharp enough to remove fingers. Razor-edged bacon is intended as a short-range throwing weapon. See how it slices into the simulated flesh of our target? It will work as well or better on real, live intruders.

Safe to eat? Of course it's safe to eat! Well, yes, we did have a few minor issues in testing... nicks and cuts, mostly... and that one fellow whose jaw fell off... but if you sign up for our Mad Science Self-Defense Breakfast Program any time this week, we'll throw in a complete alimentary system upgrade free of charge! Not only will you never have another cavity - you'll even be able to swallow broken glass or razor blades with no ill effects!

So, moving on, let's consider the eggs. Warm and delicious if eaten with your fork... but if you touch them with catalyst point on the other end, they dissolve into a cloud of sleeping gas. It works on contact with the skin, rendering everyone within eight feet or so unconsci... yes, just like that, Mrs. Hatchness. Very good. Would someone please wake up Mrs. Hatchness and her companions? Thank you.

As I was about to say, the most efficient way to render yourself immune to the effect is to make our Instant-Out Eggs a regular part of your diet. Once your body has had a chance to metabolize them, you'll find that their gaseous form does nothing more than leave you with a brief bout of euphoria, followed by a mild headache.

Now let's examine your cantaloupe. Each slice is juicy, delicious, and filling... and with a touch of the handle of your spoon, it hardens instantly for use as a close-quarters weapon. This, of course, is a back-up strategy, in case you have failed to explode, immolate, or immobilize your attackers already.

Should you become injured in the course of defending yourself at breakfast, never fear: our potent restorative orange juice is packed with a nanite mixture designed heal most external injuries. Just pour it over the wound, and it immediately forms a synthetic skin while it sets about repairing the tissues underneath. Consumed, it scours your system clean. Our nanomachines can identify and destroy forty-seven different diseases, including the entire currently-known catalog of sexually transmitted infections. They will unclog your arteries, disassemble kidney stones, and extend your lifespan by up to twenty years. All things in moderation, however; increasing consumption beyond a single cup per day will not extend your lifespan further, and may result in cases of spontaneous human combustion.

So there you are, ladies and gentlemen: the Mad Science Self-Defense Breakfast. Join our program today, and you can once again feel safe at your own breakfast table.

Filler: Taming Yesterday's Nightmares for a Better Tomorrow

I have nothing for today, so I'm going to send you all over to Peter Watts for an update on his research into Vampire Domestication. I'm sure you'll find it very educational.

Notes from the Mad Science Lab: An Intro To LARPing

My son has expressed interest in a new hobby. Apparently he and his friends want to try some LARPing, and he's hoping I'll help them out.

For those of you who don't know what LARPing is (I had to look it up, myself), the word is short for Live Action RolePlaying. It's an outgrowth of the older RolePlaying Games, or RPGs, in which a small group of people got together and told stories in which they pretended to be other characters (elves, dwarves, garden gnomes, and suchlike) and go around fighting off evil wizards, saving the world, collecting treasure, and growing even stronger so that they could go on to fight even greater threats. The "live action" part means that instead of sitting around a table telling each other these stories, they actually want to dress up in costumes, and actually fight simulated monsters and villains and such.

For the record, I do not consider this the best use of my son's intelligence and imagination. That said, it sounds like good exercise; and my son assures me that there's a lot of math involved, though I don't see where. Still, his birthday is coming up, and he wants to have a couple of his friends over to celebrate, so I should have time to put together a LARP for his party.

Naturally, I'll keep you posted on how it goes.

Notes from the Mad Science Lab: No More Zombies

Have a seat, everyone. Are you all comfortable? Good. Then I'll begin.

I know what you've been doing. Honestly, you should all know by now that I monitor every inch of this installation, from the vehicle bays to the cryptozoo. I keep particularly close track of what happens in the labs. So I know about your drunken night out in the canteen. I know, down to the milliliter, exactly how much alcohol each of you drank. I can replay your entire conversation, complete with gestures, exactly as captured by no less than a dozen microphones and six different camera angles.

So I am very well aware that when you stumbled out of the canteen and back to the labs, you had been discussing a prank. It's nearly Halloween, after all, and you work in a laboratory. Once you realized that you could create some artificial zombies and scare the hell out of the minions -- and possibly myself -- I'm sure the temptation was irresistible. Unfortunately, all three of you got completely carried away.

I'm not entirely disappointed by this. I hired you for your initiative, after all, as well as your intelligence. And, really, if you didn't sometimes take things a little too far, and run the risk of ending civilization as we know it, what sort of researchers would you be? No, you are my assistants, and you should feel free to pursue your own projects when you are not otherwise occupied. That said...

Sam, in deciding to use a self-reproducing nanostructure to reanimate your corpse, you failed to consider what sort of failsafes might be necessary. Your infection has now claimed fully half of our minions, who are now shambling around outside the cryptozoo in the hope of infecting everything inside. This is why you should never attempt science while you are drunk.

Cassius, your decision to use "just a little" necroactive radiation to give your zombie an "aura of menace" has resulted in a creation that kills people by its mere presence. Anyone who comes within about ten feet of the thing... dies. Only about half of them reanimate, but Sam's shamblers have already infected several of the stray corpses that your radiation zombies have left behind. This has accounted for another quarter of our minions.

Bart... You, at least, cobbled together a wholly artificial creature that lacks any capability for infecting others. However, you appear to have given it a particularly active brain, and for the last fourteen hours it has been kidnapping minions, killing them, and constructing more creatures like itself - presumably to give it some company. So far there are only three of them, but their intelligence makes them vastly more dangerous than the zombies your peers created.

As a result of your combined efforts, there are now exactly three... two minions who remain alive. This is your mess, gentlemen. I expect you to clean it up. You will, of course, have access to anything in the armory... provided you can get to it. The minions and I will monitor your progress from my office. Please note that I will have the defense system up, including the turrets, so driving your zombies to my office door is a viable strategic option... provided that the hallway is completely clean by the time I emerge. Approaching the door yourselves, under any circumstances, is an extremely bad idea.

Is all that clear? Very good. Go to it, gentlemen.

Clockwork Quartet: The Doctor's Wife

Still writing, and reloading my work computer. So, this morning, I offer you an inspiring musical tale of true love...

Ride My Giant Lizard

In the carpool line with Firstborn this morning:

Firstborn: "I still want a giant lizard."

Me: "Many men do." Pause. "So you could ride it to school?"

Firstborn: "Yes."

Me: "You'd have to take it to the riding-lizard stables around the back of the school, though. And Giant Lizard Food is expensive. I mean, you can raise your own herd of giant bugs, but you'd need somewhere to keep them. And you have to watch them closely to make sure they don't chew through the fence."

Firstborn: "But the giant lizard would still have a sticky tongue!"

Me: "Oh, yes. Feeding the lizard wouldn't be a problem. It's just buying the food, or herding the giant bugs for him to eat. Have you ever tried to herd giant insects? It's really hard."

Firstborn: "And if there was a robbery, I could just tell the lizard to drop its tail. Then the police could walk up to robbers and just say, 'You're under arrest.' And their car would be like a jail. If it was all crunched up, it wouldn't even be able to drive anymore."

Me: "Good plan. I'm sure the police would appreciate the help."

Firstborn: "That's what I thought, too."

So now I want a giant riding lizard, too. Quick! To the Mad Science Lab!

Notes from the Mad Science Lab: Afternoon PSAs

Attention, minions. The hunt for the monitor serpents has now been underway for approximately twenty straight hours. By my count, nearly half of you are either dead or incapacitated, and Medical is starting to... triage... anyone they can't fix immediately.

The escaped monitor serpents, meanwhile, have gone through at least four full generations. They are now smarter and more experienced at dealing with you. They have also developed legs, and arms with opposable thumbs - probably as a result of genetic pollution from eating so many of you. Twenty minutes ago, their leader contacted me by way of the intercom system. Since this shows more technical aptitude than some of you will ever possess, I have negotiated a truce with the Serpent Emperor.

As of now, we are no longer attempting to capture any of the escaped monitor serpents, regardless of their current level of evolution. The serpent people apparently regard the older generations of monitor serpents as honored ancestors. At this time, you may all consider yourselves on break. Food will be available in the cafeteria, and if any of the serpent people choose to eat with you then I expect you to treat them with the same respect that you do your co-workers.

That brings me to my next point: I have decided to replace you all with serpent people. Starting tomorrow morning, you may all consider yourselves terminated. After breakfast, I will provide transport back to the mainland. This offer will remain in effect until everyone is healed, cured, or revivified. If you wish to continue working here on Mad Science Island, you should visit Human Resources and fill out the proper application forms. You may use this an an opportunity to apply for a different job assignment, but be warned that you will almost certainly be interviewing against serpent people for some of those positions.

Thank you, and have a nice day.

Notes from Mad Science Lab: Evening PSAs

Very well, minions. It seems I need to add some additional information, so take note.

The second stage is not the end of the monitor serpent's life cycle. If they are injured - if, hypothetically, you attempt to beat one to death as revenge for your friend - they will writhe around and give a very convincing impression of being in extreme pain.

That isn't pain. It's their second metamorphosis, and it doesn't involve a cocoon. When the changes are complete, the third-stage monitor serpent will shed its skin and emerge with a layer of scales that is quite capable of stopping small-arms fire. Its new teeth are not as large as they are on a stage-two serpent, but they are extremely sharp, and there are a lot of them. So if, hypothetically, you manage to provoke a monitor serpent into its third stage, odds are extremely good that it will... hypothetically... rip you apart and eat most of the pieces, thereby making it extremely difficult to determine which minion needs to be restored this time.

In addition, the third-stage serpent is now strong enough to gnaw its way out of a standard holding cell, escape the cryptozoo, and lose itself in the lab complex. Naturally, this is a situation that we would have... that we would prefer to avoid. This is especially true since, at this stage of their development, the monitor serpent is both fertile and hermaphroditic.

No, don't bother looking it up. It means that a single serpent can lay enough eggs to hatch dozens of new monitor serpents, which will also have to be caught and returned to the holding facility - preferably without injuring them and thus triggering another round of changes.

I expect to see everyone in the cafeteria for dinner, when we will determine the identity of any minions who might have been devoured. After that, we will form seek-and-capture squads to locate any specimens that might be missing from their pens.

Eat well, minions. It's going to be a long night.

Notes from the Mad Science Lab: Noon PSAs

Attention, minions.

Pursuant to my earlier announcement, it seems that some of you have noted that the second-stage monitor serpents are not eligible to be shipped to the client. That is true, but it does not make them fair game for your amusements.

I have already explained that second-stage monitor serpents are larger, stronger, and tougher than their first-stage counterparts. Once they've eaten, they continue to grow. If they've been in the second stage of their development long enough to grow fur, then they are more than strong enough to kill a grown man. So, if the consequences outlined in your New Minion Contracts are not sufficient to deter you from interfering with the experiments, you might want to consider your own safety instead.

On a related note, former cryptozoo technician Samson will be rejoining you tomorrow, once the medical staff finishes restoring him to his new cloned body. I hope he enjoys his new position on the janitorial staff.

Notes from the Mad Science Lab: Morning PSAs

Good morning, minions. The time has come for today's announcements, so please pay attention. This information might very well save your life.

It has come to my attention that some of you have been tormenting the monitor serpents just to watch them metamorphose.

Knock. It. Off.

Yes, the larval form of the monitor serpent is kind of cute, with those big eyes and the strange little bat-ears. And yes, if you knock them around a bit, they quit squealing at you, coil themselves up, and secrete their cocoons. I realize this must be fascinating to watch; no doubt you are overwhelmed with awe at the sight of the biological marvel that I have created.

Unfortunately for those of you engaged in this... pastime... the monitor serpents emerge from their cocoons larger, faster, tougher... and starving. Several of you have lost fingers and toes, and in one memorable case, an entire nose and both ears. The rest of you should learn from their example, and do otherwise.

Leave the monitor serpents alone. In addition to what your interference is costing us in medical services and lost work hours, you're delaying their shipment to the woman who commissioned them - a woman, I might add, who is paying us a very great deal of money to create these beasts. This is unacceptable, and anyone caught handling the monitor serpents without express orders to do so will face penalties.

I trust I won't have to repeat myself on this.