Them Jiggybones: A Short Story

Ok, Internet, today I will be taking a break from telling you stories of my various misadventures in order to answer today’s daily post topic. I usually ignore these topics, but I couldn’t resist writing a story about someone named Dr. Jiggybones. So here goes.

Dr. Jiggybones was not a young man. At least, that’s what he told himself as he struggled to lift the heavy crossbeams into place. In truth, he was barely over 40, but the project had aged him in unanticipated ways, and he was beginning to feel it.

He had never imagined that it would get to this point. When Dr. Flidget had approached he with the idea… gosh, must’ve been 10 years ago now… it had sounded wild. Impossible. Of questionable legality.

But in the end, the project had consumed him. When Magco Inc. had withdrawn its support, when Dr. Flidget had succumbed to madness, even after that terrible fire, he had kept working. Often, in the dark of night in his little workshop, he consoled himself with the thought that someday, the world would see. They would all see what fools they had been.

The crossbeams were in place. He kept working, hunched over his creation, the rhythmic whirring of the drill the only thing keeping the silence at bay. He pressed onward. 1 a.m. 2 a.m. 3 a.m.

It was almost complete. He made the final adjustments, and then…

He flicked the switch. The project came to life, beeping and flashing, causing general commotion. The treadle began to spin at a fantastic rate. He checked the gauges- everything was sound. He had done it.

It was early the next morning when he informed the media. At first, only a couple of sorry-looking newspaper fellows came to look, sent by editors who remembered who Jiggybones had been at his height. Then, the floodgates opened. Flocks of media types descended upon the workshop, producing stories that sent the scientific community into uproar. A stern panel of peers was sent out to examine the project and, to the shock of the world’s ortheosophists, reported back with verification of Jiggybones’s claims.

Then one day, a few years later, Jiggybones Industries opened for business- the first commercial producers of the thingamajig.

Everything was going swimmingly, until Dr. Jiggybones neglected to check the gauges before going home for the night. (He had recently married a colleague in the ortheosophist field, his first wife having divorced him during the later stages of the project, and was eager to get home to her.) Unfortunately, during the night the crossbeams began to slip off the treadle, and by morning the entire factory was filled with bubbles. They had to stop production for the day to perform clean up.

Having learned his lesson, it was the last time Dr. Jiggybones would let the crossbeams get out of skew on the treadle.

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3 Comments

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3 responses to “Them Jiggybones: A Short Story

  1. Smaaak

    Great laugh you gave me !!

  2. Scott Berkun

    This was awesome. Well done.

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