Plumb Island Pedigree

OK . . . So I’ve been meaning to write something about this for a couple of weeks now.

Picture this if you will . . .

A cold winter morning on the East end of Long Island, or rather; a tiny island off the shore of Montauk. Plumb Island to be exact. A security guard winding down an otherwise uneventful night shift trudges along the rocky shores of the isolated island. Glaring through the dim morning air he comes upon a corpse. A human corpse. A human corpse with “very long fingers” . . . WTF!!

Sounds like the plot of a late night B movie except that it’s true. Did they find a mutated human off of Long Island?

“The body was described as that of a white male about 6-feet tall with a large build and “very long” fingers. According to authorities, there were no obvious signs of trauma.”

Have you ever heard a report of a dead body with it’s fingers as an important attribute. Why would you describe a body as having very long fingers. How long is very long and what does that even mean. Long like his girlfriend was a happy girl or long like . . . Edward Scissorhands long? How did it end up on Plumb Island to begin with when nobody is even allowed on it without government clearance. I wanna know more.

Let me back up a bit, Plumb Island is home to the Plumb Island Animal Disease Center where they have researched strange and dangerous infectious diseases for decades; bringing you Toxic goodness since 1954. So was this poor bugger some escaped mutant experiment or a really bad swimmer in January waters?

Now . . . let’s back up one more year to July 2008. Again, our story begins on a beach at the East end of Long Island; this time it’s the posh haven of East Hampton. Our hero is a young woman. As she walks along a popular east end beach she spots a group of people gathered around something on the sand. As she nudges her way into the scrum of onlookers she snaps an innocent photo of a strange creature. A gnarly little carcass; pink as a baby’s belly with a face that could turn milk . . . ┬áthat’s right the “Montauk Monster“. Did I mention the ┬ábeach is about a mile or two south of Plumb Island and most of that is open sea.

For the record, I think the Montauk Monster is the rotting remains of some inbred pedigree lap dog. I can almost hear some rich old poon standing on her pretentious east end porch calling for “Pooky” to come home. Well lady last I heard pooky was in someone’s cooler.

As for the Plumb Island mutant. I think it’s one of those Human-Pig hybrids George W. was babbling about in the last days of his eight year failure.

So just remember to watch the skies kiddies and don’t make me school you on “The Montauk Chair“. Nighty Night boys and girls, don’t turn the lights out, especially if you live on Long Island.

Posted on February 23, 2010 at 9:51 pm in Toxic Chop Suey, Toxic News. Follow responses to this post with the comments feed. You can leave a comment or trackback from your own site.

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