The Origin of Feces

Most bad things that happen in the world can be traced back to human
greed and stupidity. If it's not because somebody was trying to get too much
it's because someone didn't know how to get it. The humble beginnings of the
Gawlmighty gang do not break that longhonored tradition.

In the mid-Eighties of the last century, Aurelius Bubba, a smalltime oil
speculator, lost his modest fortune on a series of dry wells in Texas.

An acquaintance of his gave in after much shameless begging on Bubba's
part, and set Bubba up in the business of radioactive waste disposal.

So determined was Mr. Bubba to regain his wealth that he drove his only
radioactive waste disposal truck himself. He swore he would be rich again.

It was just the world's bad luck that night that he was shagging Miss Annie Joe
Mostly in the cab of said truck in an alleyway near the University of Texas,
A&M in the town of College Station.

Those facts would never change the world a bit.

The fact that his truck was leaking would.

A thin young man with thick glasses turned into the alley
just then in an indignant huff, sputtering and talking
to himself and about to cry.

He was also carrying part of his feces collection.

Since childhood, had collected animal crap. He found it quite
fascinating. He also found it everywhere. But in the cardboard box he
carried were some of his most prized samples, ones he had carefully
chosen deliberately to impress his favorite waitress at the Aggie Cafe. He
had, against his own rules, taken his prized specimens out of their glass
jars and brought them, in the open air, all the way across town, just to
impress Zelda Polly.

Her appreciation had been less than profuse. Thus his fuss.

The turd collector didn't see the bouncing radioactive waste disposal truck.

Nor did he see the cat.

If the turd collector had been a braver man he wouldn't have left his prized dung
lying in the nuclear waste while he ran away like a whimpering puppy
after stepping on the cat's tail. Then again if Mr Bubba hadn't been
parked there doing Miss Mostly, the exotic creature crap would only
have added to the stink of the alleyway.

And if God (or Benjamin Franklin) hadn't chosen that precise moment
to strike the scene with lightning, the awful miracle might never have
happened.

But it did.