Note: Everything on this page is 100% fictional…just in case you hadn’t noticed.
The road to Hell is paved with good intentions. Unforeseen consequences plague even the greatest inventors and scientists, including the lab rats who developed spackle, currently known mostly by its shorter street name, “spack”.
Spack was first cobbled together via the magic of modern chemistry, a powerful snake killing marvel. If you didn’t like snakes, you could purchase a bit of the potent powder, sprinkle a bit wherever snakes might find it, and -poof!- no more snakes. The reptiles cannot resist its imitation mouse flavor with a hint of bird and a dusting of cottontail rabbit; they’ll touch it with their forked tongues, feed the stuff back into their own systems–and promptly drop dead, stiff as any metal rod.
Well…not drop dead, exactly, since snakes are mostly on the ground already. But you know what I mean. Instead of coiling or squiggling along, they suddenly lock up, straight-line stone sticks, and that’s the end of that.
Except…not quite. It’s not quite the end of that. Kids everywhere seem to be able to find ways to get high that neither you nor I would have ever considered. You can’t find half the cold pills we used to buy for those stuffed up winter days when the latest virus was rampaging, because the youngsters (and now some sort-of oldsters as well) use the products to make stuff that will poison you but get you high-high-high, and who cares about poison, anyway?
That’s how the drug-o-philes among us operate, and in the Cluckers barnyard, darned if they didn’t come to the realization that spack was potent get-you-high stuff. Which stray chick or calf or wandering young skunk first licked a line of spack to find this out, who knows? We only know that spack became such a problem for farmers and suburban housewives (dead snakes piled up everywhere) plus animal parents and authorities (young barnyard animals “spacked out” all over the place) that the marvelous snake poison was nearly pulled from the shelves, outlawed entirely.
The lab rats didn’t like that idea. Having one of their prize developments backfire would hurt their careers as caring, competent critters. So they did what politicians do the world over, be they human two legged types or the generally more sensible four legged beasties of field and stream and barnyard.
They launched a PR campaign to sell the benefits of spack.
First up (never mind the stoned young critters stumbling all over the place), they had to deal with all those stone stiff snakes–which never rotted or deteriorated in any way, thanks to the petrifying properties of spack. They did this by commissioning a very special book….