I don't know if any of you noticed, but it was absolutely gorgeous this weekend. I didn't go numb, my eyes didn't tear because of the cold winds and I wasn't forced to pile on 37 layers of clothing to brace the outdoors. The beautiful weather came out of nowhere, like a miracle occurred.
You can thank me at anytime.
Yes, in a way you owe me thanks. You see, in my frustration with the cold, I took it upon myself to build a weather machine. Some of you may remember my attempts at weather control last year. For those of you who don't, it ended in my plummeting off the Atmospheric and Oceanic Sciences Building, breaking my wonderful machine and dealing with several more weeks of winter.
But now, after almost another year of toil, sweat and kind of forgetting about the weather machine and taking up croquet for a while but eventually coming back, I finished it: my love, my beauty, my masterpiece. And, as you have experienced, she is fully operational.
This weather machine is a superior version to my last weather machine. It has a gobberdabatron for more precise atmospheric measurements. It includes an advanced version of wangdoodleocity for a more efficient melting of snow. And best of all, it has an AM/FM radio so I can listen to my jams while celebrating my victory over winter.
To place the machine just right, I had to plunge into the depths of the city. I found my way into the steam tunnels, creeping silently with the stealth of a ninja-cat-eagle hybrid. So eagles aren't really stealthy, but I like making the whooshing noises as if I can fly, so it seemed like a logical choice in a hybrid.
Anyway, I strategically placed the machine under the Capitol, the heart of our fair city. I thought buried deep below the earth, it would be safe from any tampering. Each day I go to check on it, and as expected it has functioned perfectly. Until a recent, fateful night.
It was well past midnight when I reached the cavern where the machine was housed. I relieved Tunnel Bob, who guards my prized possession while I am in class. I was admiring my machine, cleaning the dials and such, when I noticed it. A small chip of ice was clinging to the back panel.
Now I knew I was in great danger. Winter had been here. The evil wench had realized what I was up to and it was only a matter of time before she attacked. Suddenly a burst of freezing wind swept through the tunnel. Icicles began to fall from nowhere, and most terrifying of all, the machine began to shake, and the radio turned on all by itself.
Never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down. Never gonna run around and desert you'¦""
Damn! Not only was winter trying to destroy the machine and I, she was rick-rolling me as she did it!
I tried to fight her. I couldn't let down the thousands that depended on me to save them from frostbite, numbing cold and snot freezing to their faces. I picked up my secret weapon: a hairdryer. Turning it to hot, I tried to combat the freezing with bursts of hot air. But I realized too late my mistake: there are not outlets in the steam tunnels.
I dropped the useless hairdryer and dived for the machine, but it was too late. An icicle pierced my sleeve to the wall, stopping me mid dive. Trapped, I watched as a giant icicle hovered threateningly over the weather machine. With a heart-wrenching thud it fell, destroying my masterpiece.
And just as quickly as it had started, the attack was over. I fell to my knees and wept over the remains of my beautiful machine.
So, I owe you all an apology, residents of my dear city. I have failed you. I estimate we have a week - maybe less - before winter redoubles her efforts. All I can give you now is this piece of advice: you might want to start looking for that 38th layer of clothing.
If you hate winter as much as Megan does, e-mail her at mcorbett2@wisc.edu and help plan winter's demise.
