by Shannon Fay
Mad science 101 was the only class where you had to worry about your homework eating the dog.
Poor Barnaby. The only thing left of the cocker spaniel was a chewed-up collar the angle-wolf had spit out before booking it out of the lab Jodie had built in her grandma’s basement. She could hear the beast overhead, knocking over granny’s fine china and Hummel figures.
Jodie typed up an e-mail to her Mad-Sci 101 prof.
Dear Professor Smogmire,
I know the deadline for the anglefish-wolf hybrid is tomorrow, but could I please have an extension? My grandmother has passed away.
Jodie didn’t know for sure that her grandma was dead, but from the sound of the beast’s blood cries granny’s odds certainly didn’t look good.
Smogmire’s reply came quickly:
Dear Ms. Flowers,
My condolences on the death of your grandmother. Unfortunately, I no longer offer extensions in such cases as it only encourages students to procrastinate and kill off family members when projects are due.
A loud crash came from above as the angle-wolf burst through a wall and escaped into the suburbs. Jodie watched it disappear from the basement’s tiny window. “There goes my grade point average,” she thought.
Or maybe not. Under her desk was last semester’s final project, a collapsible DNA replicator. Jodie whipped out her phone.
“Hey, Cheryl, it’s Jodie. You know Smogmire’s hybrid assignment? Are you finished? You are?” Jodie looked over her cloning device. “Could I copy your homework?”
Shannon Fay has worked in a historic fort, in a youth hostel, on a farm, in a bookstore, and of course, as a writer. Offline she lives in Nova Scotia, online she lives at www.ayearonsaturn.com