The Real Growlerville 11: Encrusted Animal Rights Society (EARS)

(A first hand account by investigative journalist, Mr. E)


I'm shaking in my booties!!!

Whoa, I'm still trying to figure out what just happened. Read about the fake bugs and the sign that read DANGER ATBE in my last post.


Before the dust of those big white trucks could settle, a black motorcycle streaks out of nowhere and pulls up beside me. It's Grandpa Huhu. The old guy is a hoot with his black leather riding outfit, black helmet, black boots, gloves.

At first, he doesn't believe my story. He's sure I'm messing around with him until I show him my rubber bug. He recognizes the species and becomes very insistent that we go to the EARS (Encrusted Animal Rights Society) headquarters immediately.

No way I'm riding on the back of his cycle.

He persuades me to give him the rubber bug, as evidence of a plot to carry out some environmental crime.

I learn from him that "Research 1A" refers to Professor Growler's secret project focused on something called the temporal vortex - an opening in the time continuum created by an encrusted creature called the timefish as it enters a timezone.

EARS has planted moles in Prof. Growler's research team, and is preparing to sabotage his experiment to keep him from harming this protected creature. Grandpa Huhu thinks the fake crickets are part of an elaborate plan to capture the timefish, something EARS wants to prevent.

I'm not sure I understand it all, but Grandpa Huhu could not hang around to fill me in. We make plans to meet after dinner, and he zooms off.

Distant thunder is no longer distant.




I am left by the side of the road wondering what is going on. I get this feeling I'm onto something really big, and really weird. So why did I have to give Grandpa Huhu my rubber bug? It's the only real proof I had of what really happened.

By the way, what really did happen?



It turns out that the fake bugs mentioned in my last column really were for use in a scientific experiment. If you remember from last time, I was walking through the industrial park section of town when I came upon a damaged crate filled with rubber crickets.

Big guys in white trucks came and cleaned up the site, removing the crate and all the spilled crickets - except for the one I had stashed in my pocket, and which is now in the hands of Grandpa Huhu and EARS (Encrusted Animal Rights Society).


So now I'm walking back to town, having refused a ride on the back of his motorcycle.



The front that was approaching is now upon me so I trudge through the rain in the direction of town.

This should be just a brief shower.


As I pull up my hood, there is a loud explosion behind me from one of the lots in the industrial park. Hurrying back, I observe numerous more eruptions, and strangely swirling smoke. It is the stuff under the tarp, labeled ATBE. A fragment of the sign, "Danger! ATBE: keep away from rain," floats across the road in the wash of the downpour. The entire tarp is shredded, and as more and more of the stuff under the tarp gets wet, more explosions and weird fires break out.

I back away several blocks and can see that the impacted area is slowly increasing as the rain continues to feed the unstable reactions. There are hundred of small, exploding purple fires now claiming more than two of the lots. The smoke from these strange flames appears to be moving backwards - that is, into the reaction.

It's an amazing display - purple flames that seem to absorb smoke. The rain lets up, and the fires and explosions come to a halt. Left on the lots is the same green, moldy powder as on the objects under the tarp.

The sun comes out again.

The tarp is completely destroyed, and the fence around it is coated with the green powder as is the blacktop out to the road. Whatever was under that tarp has escaped into the environment.

If it's really dangerous, why isn't someone cleaning it up right now?

Why didn't an alarm go off?

And the other obvious question is: Why is ATBE dangerous?




My next move is to find the appropriate authorities and start asking questions.

A car zooms by, oblivious to the green dust cloud it creates as it rolls right over a fresh deposit of ATBE, throwing it into the air and carrying it off within the tire treads.

next - Problems With The Election