The Joy of Stuffing

Some days are more difficult than others.

Dear Inter-Universe Traveler,

I don't especially want to know who I used to be and who I also am. But I am curious about one thing: How do you manage to get your dates (in this universe) scrambled? Have you really already lived November 20-something of 2009? Not that I doubt your ability to time-hop. Anyone who can universe-hop is above doubt.

No, I can't manipulate time. That would be a good ability. But sometimes when I contact distant universes, computers malfunction. Like the clock on my laptop. Or the autopilot in an airplane. Sometimes, large parts of the Internet. This is not an ability, it's just another charming genetic defect. And the more I think about it, the more likely it is to happen.

Let's change the subject. Have I mentioned that my ability is only partially under my control? When I saw your comment, I involuntarily read your character and watched all 178 episodes of your TV show. And you're right. You do not want to know. You love animals, right? You REALLY don't want to know.

Okay, I have to tell somebody. You were Becky the Beaver on a show called "The Joy of Stuffing." It's a show about TAXIDERMY. You were a puppet, MADE WITH REAL FUR. And yes, they showed how you were made, and hundreds of other home taxidermy projects, every week, for eight long years. I just spent 178 hours watching bunnies get their skins pulled off. Yes, that's how they do it. No, I don't want to talk about it. I hate my life. I HATE my life.

Thanks for your comment!