The Mechanical Fellow Saves Us From The Noise Moths Crisis

Chimp Joe Helps, To His Own Detriment

Tommy Potentuary,
Television Personality
Artist's depiction of these events by Marina Parella.

With the aid of Chimpanzee Joe, The Mechanical Fellow utilized the UMass emergency alert system to bait in and exterminate the biting, psychoactive noise moths that have been terrorizing campus. However, it was not without sacrifice on the part of Chimp Joe.

Breaking news! The noise moths are dead! Our cherished haven of beautiful sunsets, friendship, and community, Orchard Hill, is now safe and once again bustling with life! We can sing again! We can dribble basketballs! We can enjoy the Spring weather without holding back!

This is all thanks to our friend, the rhyming, apocalypse-predicting cyborg from the future, The Mechanical Fellow!

While the noise moths were devouring the vocal cords of anyone who made a peep, The Mechanical resided just a few hops and a skip away, in the woods behind Orchard Hill. He tried to ignore the problem at hand. He wanted to help, but he was already too stressed about the coming robot apocalypse, he found it hard to focus on a small-time tragedy.

I wanted to help, But I had no yelp.

To lend a hand, I would need to stand.

But, I was stuck — on my butt,

Thinking of the end of man.

But The Mechanical Fellow could not bear to sleep in the midst of tragedy.

My ears do not close Not even almost

Neither does my conscience I was trapped on my toes

So I computed a way To save the day

And to my aid, was chimp Joe!

The Mechanical Fellow set sights on the roof of Field Hall, the Easternmost dorm in the Orchard Hill residential area. He coated his metal parts in duct tape and cloth beforehand, so as to muffle clanking sounds as he climbed the ladder. Still, he made sounds and as a result, was swarmed by noise moths that bit at him viciously. They could not penetrate his hardened aluminum exterior, however, so he trudged on through their masses.

At the top of the building, he plugged his umbilical wire into the underside of the UMass emergency alert system speaker. He transmitted the sound of the noise moth swarm through the wire. The speaker produced a terrible screeching sounds which attracted more noise moths, thereby amplifying the sound, attracting more moths, and compounding. Before long, he had attracted every noise moth in sight.

They swarmed around him and the speaker in a massive chaotic mess. He struggled to breathe and couldn’t escape the mass. He could not move, no matter how hard he pushed.

My strength is plenty But not for this many

I was trapped I nearly tapped

I thought I would die If I did not release the hive

By allowing my wire to snap

The Mechanical Fellow imagined cutting the audio. What would happen, though? Either the moths would be unleashed to ravage the crowd of onlookers, or they would remain trapped in one place by their own sound, still dooming The Mechanical Fellow. So, there was no point. He would not escape.

I committed to the cause My life felt so raw

Would I die in this world? Would my story be told?

I thought these things Until I heard a voice sing

It told me of my friend Joe

Chimpanzee Joe arrived on the scene teary-eyed, wearing protective glasses and leather gloves. He stood alongside a group of aliens from the Alien Refugee Commune near puffers pond. These strange creatures, wearing home-made HAZMAT suits, strapped Joe into a homemade trebuchet. They dumped laxative into his mouth and launched him into the mass of noise moths surrounding The Mechanical Fellow. He sang his glottal song as he soared through the air. When he landed he was thrown into a fighting, clawing, biting frenzy, fighting off noise moths from his eyes and extremities, and shoving them into his mouth. As he devoured pile after pile of noise moths, a pipeline of feces spat out from his anus, making more room in his stomach. The psychoactive effects of the moths held true, though, and compounded. He struggled to retain focus as he hallucinated terrible terrible things — nail sandwiches, dying infant chimpanzees, and worse. He looked to the notes he had written on his hand for reassurance. The aliens tried calling to him from afar, like coaches in his corner, but they could only yell so loud without diverting the swarm.

He was on his own, screaming, twitching, imagining other worlds, fighting to keep eating while his mind devoured itself, and while his stomach and colon convulsed from the laxatives.

In one fell swoop And with a lot of poop

Joe dug in his teeth, disregarding health And binged like back when he lost himself

But in the fray And despite disarray

Joe ate the world’s demons And he bit his own demon

Leaving us safe no more red tape

With a broken mind But much time

To be cared for by friends Who will see him to his end

Chimpanzee Joe is now being cared for at Charlie’s Alien Refugee Commune near puffers pond. He seems to relate to the tenants there more than humans. They seem to understand him better than we do, and this has been a reason for them to band together in the wake of tragedy.

The Mechanical Fellow has returned to his home in the woods behind Orchard Hill, after visiting the UMass Bike Coop for some minor repairs. He hopes that he has proved his well intent to humanity...

I hope that you consider me good So that I can do as you would

If you knew something bad was coming And felt the feeling of numbing

I hope you listen As I relay my transmission

The robot apocalypse is coming

What our Mechanical Fellow means, we cannot be sure. Does he foresee imminent doom for humanity? Or is he just malfunctioning due to his wires being chewed on by noise moths? Tune in next week to find out more.

This is Tommy P. Potent, bringing you the realest of news. Inspired by the valiant efforts of Chimp Joe and The Mechanical fellow, I’m out of the advertising game. From now on, I report on news, and I do it for the best of reasons — for humanity and friends of humanity who have more humanity than most.

For more articles by Tommy Potentuary, click here. To get in touch with this writer, email tommy.potent@surrealtimes.net.

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