Dr. Hugo Von Science
“And now, the man of the hour, ladies and gentlemen, give a warm welcome to Dr. Hugo Von Science!”
Everyone flipped out when Dr. Hugo stepped out on stage. I know I was happy to see him.
As a distinguished Professor of Science at the Advanced Science Institute of Science University, Dr. Hugo was on the cutting edge of everything scientific. Everyday, he was coming out with a new invention.
I once had the pleasure of being his student when I attended the Advance Science Institute. The day my mentor handed me my Advanced Science Degree was one of the happiest days of my life.
Oh, yeah, besides the day I met Video Game Rack Fighter, and I’m not just writing that because she’s one of this blog’s 3.5 readers.
I have to admit, I was honored when Dr. Hugo reached out to me earlier this year to ask if he could write a column on my blog entitled, “You Can’t Argue with Science.”
You really can’t, can you?
Dr. Hugo never went anywhere without his white lab coat and black-out goggles. He spoke with a thick German accent.
The Mayor turned over the microphone.
“Guten tag, mein leipshin!”
Applause.
“Mayhaps you remember me from mein wunderbar invention, teflon underpants! Buy one pair and you’ll never need to wash another pair of undies ever again!”
He wasn’t lying. Teflon underpants was a major breakthrough for the undergarment industry. I’ve been wearing mine for years with nary a wash and they still smell fabulous.
“And what about the Spolier Stratifier?”
Yes, Dr. Hugo also invented a special device you can wear that picks up on whenever someone is trying to ruin the plot of a TV show you haven’t watched yet and make it sound like they are just yodeling. Countless marriages have been saved.
“Don’t forget the Beyonce-fier!”
The good doctor saved even more marriages through a special pair of glasses that caused all men to look at their wives as if they were Beyonce. For the ladies, he issued a pair called “The Tatum-izer.”
“Don’t even get me started on the Super Collider Walnut Cracker!”
Dr. Hugo was the first man to harness the power of the super collider to hurl molecules unfathomable speeds for the sole purpose of cracking walnuts. It was a great achievement, though not a commercial success, since it was impossible to sell everyone a super collider.
“Undt now, Herrs undt Frauleins, I bring you mein greatest invention yet, the Reality TV Star Transmogrifier!”
I overheard Alien Jones talking to his boss on the phone.
“Yes, Your Potentosity. I am attending the demonstration now.”
“Mein leipshin, are you tired of your television being overrun with people who are famous for doing absolutely nothing?”
I know I was. Alien Jones’ boss is so much so that he plans to take over the Earth if my writing career doesn’t motivate the masses to abandon reality tv altogether.
I’m doing my best, but you guys might want to get used to the idea of an alien overlord.
Dr. Hugo opened up a box and retrieved what appeared to be a laser blaster. It was shiny, bright red and had all kinds of bells and whistles.
“Can we get the reality tv star test subjects up on stage?”
While we were waiting, Dr. Hugo walked up to me.
“BQB mein leipshin! So nice to see you.”
“You too doctor. How are things going at Science University?”
“Oh fine, just fine. Well, there have been rumors that mein invention budget will be slashed in the next fiscal year but who am I to complain?”
“I’m sorry to hear that, Dr. Hugo.”
Despite his mad scientist appearance, Dr. Hugo always presented himself with a kind, courteous demeanor, but occasionally, a dark side poked through.
“As am I,” Dr. Hugo replied. “For now I shall have to make them pay. Nein, the whole world will now have to pay for disregarding mein genius for far too long! Muah ha…muah ha….MUAH HA HA HA HA HA!!!!”
“Huh?” I asked.
“Oh nothing, nothing.”
Taken during the two hour sweeps week special episode, “Jenna Does Yardwork.”
The reality stars took to the stage. There was Jenna Simone, the super foxy blonde whose main claim to fame was that sheonce slept with an NFL player. A tape was leaked and based off that one encounter, she built a multi-million dollar empire that included a fashion line, a perfume, and her TV show, Shopping With Jenna.
Cameras follow her around while she buys clothes. That’s all that happens, yet more people tune in to watch her pick out her next dress than for the president’s state of the union address.
She wore all pink, carried Guillermo, a yippy purse dog that was even smaller than Bookshelf Q. Battledog, and raised up her oversized sunglasses just long enough to make a facial expression that indicated to everyone she was overwhelmingly bored being there.
“Mommy should fire her agent,” Jenna said to Guillermo. “Yes she should.”
Next up were Bob and Todd Streibchek, a pair of grisly brothers/plumbers from the Bronx who rose to fame with their show, “Toilet Catastrophes.”
They were a crowd favorite too.
“People please,” Bob said. “Sure, you’re happy now, but what none of you realize is that inside each and every one of your homes is a porcelain death trap waiting to kill you if not calibrated properly.”
Toilet explosions. People getting sucked into their toilets. Alligators popping out of toilets and biting unsuspecting butts. Bob and Todd had seen it all.
The scene of the crime.
Last but not least, there was the cast of Stereotypical Italian New Jerseyians. Donnie A. Donnie B. Vinny Stugotz. Maria Dub Step and last but not least, Lil’ Schnookums.
Vinny grabbed the mic.
“What, a mad scientist wants to experiment on me ovah hea’? Fahgeddaboudit!”
“What’s that?” Alien Jones asked into his phone. “Vaporize them if the demonstration doesn’t work? Oh Potent One, I don’t believe that would comply with Earth law. What? Yes, I know. Yes. You are the Mighty Potentate.”
Bookshelf Battle 