Greetings, fellow travelers on Destiny's highway. A very strange predicament has befallen me, one of which compels me now to take to this very cyber-contest. Many of you surely know, and understand, the importance of my father's research. As close as I had come to finishing my father's research, it only seemed that Fate stood against me. Is that not the nature of Fate? To present itself as an unruly obstacle, forcing us to overcome, so that we may merit its splendorous harvest? And so, it is with some humble gratitude, and mild crying, that I submit to Fate's challenge now, if only to finish my father's research, as my father would have wanted.
You see, as my research on my father's research had been progressing swimmingly, tragedy leaped out at me from the shadows. My laboratory assistant, Sasha Mallory, presented me with a notice, two weeks prior to her leaving my employ. It seemed that Destiny had a different challenge in store for her. As her timely letter implied, she had left to a reality competition titled "So You Think You Can Dance". Apparently, her performance has been rather satisfactory, and she, as such, may never return.
Her success has inspired me, though, to find a new assistant, to sprinkle success upon the heads of other would-be dancers. A reality competition of my own would be needed, if only to separate the wheat from the monkeys. We have many monkeys in the laboratory, and they enjoy the wheat.
Auditions commence now! If you think you have the medulla oblongatas to become my next laboratory assistant, and with it take the substantial perks of your very own clipboard with pen, not to mention free chicken sandwiches on Tuesdays in the cafeteria, then sign up below. Leave a comment or email me at mohinder@primatechpaper.org.
Only one will surpass all others through this laboratorical labyrinth that is Hell's Laboratory.
