It’s like Shakespeare...only in English.

“You wouldn’t be charming if you had a leprechaun shoved up your ass.” ~ B.S.

The Incomplete Worlds Of Billy Shakespeare | It's like Shakespeare...only in English.

Who’s Gonna Read This, B.S.?

short short stories

"Diary Of A Mad Scientist"
a story by Billy Shakespeare

The following is the diary of the lost scientist Doctor J. Gunther, noted penguin authority and author of I’m a Penguin, You’re a Penguin, Everyone’s a Penguin...Goo Goo G’Joob.

Dr. Gunther went to study penguins in their natural habitat. Unfortunately, due to an error in navigation, he was flown one-way into the middle of the frozen arctic. Gunther’s body was never found. His diary, oddly enough, was found in a penguin’s nest.

Here are his last words...

January 15

I can hardly contain myself. Despite the numbing cold, my blood boils. Adrenalin courses through my weary body. I am born again! The Arctic is beautiful. So pure, so unchanging, so...white!

I am here to study for six months Nature’s most fascinating mammal — the Penguin! It was my understanding that I would be able to find literally hundreds of the flightless animals. However, since five this morning, I have not seen anything resembling sapient life.

The Army transport plane brought me here early this morning. Due to bad weather and problems with the landing gear, I had to be thrown from the plane. Spiraling towards the earth, I was immediately and keenly aware of the absence of my parachute.

Quite sober in my thinking despite the approaching threat of extinction, I tried to alert the crew aboard the plane to my situation by screaming my lungs out. Luckily, my back was able to break my fall.

My supplies were also thrown from the plane shortly after I landed. The first crate seemed about to land dangerously near a lake of thin ice. Fortunately, however, I was able to catch it with my face. The crate, as it happened, turned out to be the bowling balls and pins I never requested.

The second and last crate landed in the center of the icy lake, and was quickly swallowed up and dragged to the bottom. It shall be dearly missed, as this was the box containing my food supplies for the next six months.

I must leave now to search for food. Hopefully, I will be able to sneak up on a penguin and crush his head with one of my bowling balls.

January 16

After an exhausting search for food, I have grudgingly accepted defeat. At least I have managed to find a cave in which to escape the numbing cold.

A marvelous discovery in this dark cave has been a large, warm patch of fur in one corner. Apparently, some Eskimo must have left one of his animal skins in here. This is the only explanation that...

Oh Christ. The patch of fur just growled.

January 20

My wounds are healing nicely. The polar bear tossed my body a short distance of, say, a hundred yards, and I was able to regain consciousness within days.

Still no food. Still no penguins.

My bowling has improved, though.

January 21

Where did those penguins go? I don’t believe this!

January 22

I find my desire to discover a penguin herd is not so much fueled by scientific curiosity as it is by my growling stomach. One wonders if they taste like chicken.

Kentucky Fried Penguin. With barbecue sauce. Eleven herbs and spices. Made the colonel’s way. Original or Extra-Crispy. Thin or thick crust. Shake or bake.

God, how I’d love to sink my teeth into their soft, tender...

(This portion of the diary was made illegible with smudges. Apparently, Gunther had drooled excessively on several pages.)

January 24

Yummy. Want a yummy penguin. Tastytastytasty. Yum.

January 26

Gimme a penguin burger, large fries, and a large coke. No thanks, I’ll eat it here.

Hungry. Too too hungry. Too too too two all beef patties special sauce lettuce cheese pickles onions on a sesame seed bun. Yum.

Here penguin penguin penguin. Here penguin penguin penguin. Come to Dada. Here penguin penguin penguin.

January 30

Having read over my last few entries, it is quite obvious that I had, for a short time, taken leave of my senses. This was no doubt brought about by the lack of food.

I am back, I assure you, to my normal mental and emotional state. I have managed to find food at last, and have been gorging myself for days. I am sane again. I am healed.

My teeth are a little sore, though. I ate the bowling balls.