TEXAS TECH UNIVERSITY
(MAGIC CITY CAMPUS),
WHEELER COUNTY, TEXAS
OCTOBER 11, 2013
Dr. Henry Beauregard McGee (age: 30/ height: 5'3"/Ph.D., biophysics) brought his rentals to the cashier of the video store.
"BLAZING SADDLES and...DESTROY ALL MONSTERS," she said (with a somewhat sad tone in her voice): "Don't you ever get anything else for the tail end of your weekly double-feature, Doc?"
"Why should I? It's the greatest of the original Toho Godzilla films, bar none!"
"What about the big game, this weekend? We're hosting the LSU Tigers for the first time in campus history!"
"If I get insomnia, I'll catch the late-night repeat on ESPN."
He paid the rental fee she quoted, then left. Noting (via her not-quite invisible reflection in the front window) the slight shaking of her head in pity. And, in all honestly, he could not totally blame her.
Twelve months earlier, he had been hit with a paternity suit by an art teacher he had scarcely been on a first name basis with! And, to vindicate himself, he had to reveal a twenty year-old secret.
"I could not have fathered Ms. Sloan's child...because I am impotent. The result of getting hit by a car, while saving my cat-chasing Westie from the same fate! It took me ten years of painful physical therapy to regain the use of my legs, Your Honor. The anatomical region between them, however? Forget it!"
When this fact was verified, by the medical records of his old pediatrician, Dorothy Sloan confessed the truth.
"My child's father is Biff Morgan, Your Honor! To keep from being flunked off the football team, he earned extra credit by posing for 'natural study' sketches in my art class. One thing led to another, and..."
Upon first getting morning sickness, the lovely carrot-topped art teacher had gone to the campus clinic for a physical. With the doctor in charge of it quickly verifying her pregnancy. Unfortunately, for her, the work-study student who had assisted the doctor was a pre-med frat brother of Morgan's. And, the latter had no trouble blackmailing her into blackmailing Henry!
As a result of this startling disclosure, Henry was awarded a tidy (though undisclosed) sum in punitive damages.
He subsequently received the money, on a monthly basis, from Morgan's wealthy parents. But, it was hand-delivered by Morgan, himself, in the form of cashier's checks. His father's idea of teaching the young man a lesson in responsibility (if not honesty)!
Almost immediately, every eligible woman on campus--over 21--began flirting with Henry. But, he would have none of them! He knew that half of them were only after the money. The other half merely considered him "safe."
Instead, he spent most of the money (and his spare time) completing his great invention; the NSR. The Neuro-Stimulative Regeneratron!
Upon dropping his DVD's off, at his off-campus apartment, Henry exchanged his business suit for a black hoodie with matching sneakers and sweat pants. Then, he hopped on his bicycle and rode over to the Physics Building. He then went up to a certain third floor class room. The only door to which bore a sign that read:
CLOSED FOR ASBESTOS REMOVAL
Unlocking this door, Henry quickly and quietly slipped inside. He then moved about the room, methodically activating all kinds of futuristic-looking equipment. While waiting for that equipment to fully warm up, he brought out his mini-digital audiorecorder, and clicked it on to "record."
"Friday night; 11 October. 6:33 P.M."
"The time has now come for Phase 3. My previous experiments, on spinally-injured dachshunds (and a twenty year-old gelding horse), consecutively showed _complete_ neuro-cellular regeneration within forty-eight hours after subjection. That's why I've waited for this holiday weekend, before using the process on myself."
"The fewer people on campus to bother me, the better I'll be able to keep this a secret. At least, until the time is right to disclose it."
Suddenly, a red light began flashing at the same time as a small beeper began sounding. The signal that the NSR was fully warmed up! Whereupon, Henry took off his glasses, removed his sweatsuit, and marched into a gray-walled, glass-fronted cubicle.