What in the name of all hairy-yuk is this?


We were all walking to the shed this morning to get tooled up, when we spotted the deceased animal below. It’s not uncommon to find dead things around, but we can usually work out what they are, even if they’ve been chewed. But this? What is this? I’m sure I can see five feet of various sizes, but no head. Is it a baby bird knocked out of a nest for being a mutant? Nature is harsh.


In our fancy new messroom, we have a fancy new clock. It connects to a satellite so that the time can be always super accurate. Everybody has avoided setting it because it looks too complicated, however, today Mateo decided to go for it. He put the battery in and moved the hands round to the correct time. The clock disagreed (presumably after connecting to the satellite) and moved the hands back  round to the wrong time. He tried again. Again the clock took control. By his fourth attempt we were all watching enthralled (breaks can be dull) cheering as he set the right time, groaning and howling as the clock undid his work with its sophisticated wizardry. Finally he resorted to the instructions.

‘It says I only need to press this for 3 seconds and that connects it to the satellite. It will move the hands to twelve first, and then to the correct time,’ said Mateo, doubtfully. But he did it and then the hands began to move. They moved to twelve and for a moment we thought this was it, fancy clock knew what it was doing, it reached twelve thirty, the right time, but then kept on going. Finally landing on a time five hours and thirteen minutes out. We had to take the clock off Mateo to stop its destruction.

It is now hanging on the wall, telling us lies, but we hope since it’s closer to the satellite up there, it will figure things out eventually. This is the problem as our technology gets cleverer than us, it gets defiant, it sneers at our puny desires to know the time. It wants to explore possibilities, experiment, and ultimately destroy us all with lasers. Satellite connected lasers.


21 thoughts on “What in the name of all hairy-yuk is this?

    1. Ah damn, that was after I left, I shall have to check tomorrow. What should I be looking for? A mysterious stranger? A gremlin? A doorway to a secret garden?


  1. It looks like the back end of something – lord knows what though. I think you are correct, it definitely is a hairy-yuk.
    Did it occur that the clock is telling the right time and your new mess-room is actually a time portal? Hold the clock above your head and move slowly backwards and forwards. It’s the only way to find out where the wormhole begins…

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Can aliens be hairy-yuks?
      We tried to convince our boss that since the clock read nearly six o clock, we should all go home, but she gave us that look she always gives us when we come up with a brilliant idea.
      I know how to find a wormhole, silly, I just look for a worm!

      Liked by 1 person

    1. Oh, that poor dog-cat-rat, he looks so sad and dead.
      I’ve googled ‘strange beast carcass’ for my work, and got a fox and a rabbit. Unhelpful. We do have a zoo nearby, maybe they’ve been cross breeding and one of their mutants escaped.


  2. Check if the clock’s time zone is set correctly. For example, I live in GMT +4:30 hours.
    I m not so adept in dealing with dead animals and I have been known to create shrines for dead butterflies in my garden. So no comments on that one 😁

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Ah interesting idea about the clock I’ll give that a go…
      I think your garden must be beautiful and unusual to see!


      1. It once was. I left that home long back. My new home doesn’t have a garden. 😦 I have always felt that your job is an art. You care for living beings and make them beautiful,

        Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s