From the Moleskine of Ivan Infinity Ph.D.
A page from the moleskine notebook of Ivan Infinity Ph.D.
There is only one photo of the Doctor, which was taken on a day when he was feeling particularly childish:
A page from the moleskine notebook of Ivan Infinity Ph.D.
There is only one photo of the Doctor, which was taken on a day when he was feeling particularly childish:
So I’m taking a walk through the desert last night. It’s warm. Most nights are a bit on the warm side in Albuquerque during the summer. I like this. It brings out the insects. Wherever you go, the air is thick with the chirps of cicadas and the ground is swarming with beetles, ants and all kinds of other things I can’t identify.
The sun sinks away, leaving behind a sunset that lasts for hours. I swear, it’s almost midnight and the sky is still a little blue.
Now, I’m looking at the moon, which is unusually bright tonight, when this thing comes swirling out of a gap of light that just sort of appears in the middle of the sky. I’m not sure if it’s a robot or a suit of armor for some kind of intergalactic octopus but it comes up toward me, followed by a little hovering ball that keeps bleeping and flashing little fuzzy plasma lit signals.
This is when the big one speaks in a deep gargled metallic tone, telling me that Cthulu’s army is being manufactured in a nearby layer of this space-fabric-thingy and that I should prepare for the oncoming horde that will enslave all of my kind. I don’t reply right away–more like I just stare at it–which seems to cause confusion amongst my visitors. While the robot monster is looking back and forth between me and it’s little floaty ball friend, I make the loudest cicada call I can muster.
The desert rises up like a tidal wave and descends.
You can hear them, but until you see the swarms of desert insects combine into Optimus Megabug, you have no freaking clue how many are really out there. The exposed tentacles dangling below the hovering robot armor go first, chewed away and replaced by countless flapping wings. Flames spew out of the exhaust-pipe-looking-things on the robot’s shoulders. I don’t think they are supposed to do that. The little flying ball is totally losing it’s shit. It’s zipping around, apparently weaponless. Must just be a scout or something. It zooms back toward the horizon and vanishes into a wisp of light that peels back the sky. I don’t know if it’s going to warn the others not to come or fetch reinforcements but it’s gone now.
With the octopus beast eaten, all that remains is the robot shell. It’s a pretty cool piece of machinery so I cover it up in the sand, marking the position for later retrieval. Bring it on Cthulhu. Send your beasts. We’ve got insects.
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