$@!!*%$

Thinking back on it, I don't know how I could have been so stupid. It was obvious what was happening; I just refused to believe it.

It started about a month ago, when an off-hand comment from me brought an anonymous email to my inbox:

Look, jerk: I know you think all of this is very funny, but it's not. You've been put on notice. You'll hear from us.

It wasn't signed, but it was inclosed in ascii art that resembled one of those thought/dialog balloons that comic strip/graphic novel artists so often use to depict dialog. And I wasn't the only one: several of my friends had received these "threatening" emails as well. We all just shrugged it off to someone bored with the whole Nigerian bank scam.

We were wrong.

Slowly, things began to change. Little things at first, like CSI: New York being preempted by an hour of Casper The Friendly Ghost cartoons. I just chalked that up to some drunken studio technician at the network. Then, at a stop light, the person in the car next to me rolled down their window and yelled "Yabba dabba Doo!" at me before speeding off (I think he we going to the Sonic, but I can't be sure). Sure, that seemed odd, but then they also had a Texas Tech bumper sticker, so who could tell.

It didn't end there, however. I was at my brother's house that weekend, and he fell asleep while we were watching golf on TV (the guy has no attention span). Suddenly, he started emitting this "zzzzzz" sound. Yes, "zzzzzzzz", like he was some sort of electronic snake. Not his normal snore at all. To make matters worse, as I was leaving his wife saw a mouse and actually yelled "eek." No exclamation point, just "eek" followed by a period. I stood there in shock as the cause of this odd outburst scampered into this perfectly-cut arch of a hole in the baseboard. I'd had enough and left, the Hartford Open results be damned.

The drive home was surreal. I drove the same route I always do from my brother's house to mine, but for some reason the scenery kept repeating. I swear I drove by the same tree outcrop and rock grouping about five times. Finally I arrived home, and after almost running into the garage door (my depth perception had been getting really bad, lately) went into the living room and called for my wife.

At least some things were consistent. As Julie took my hand and gave me a squeeze of reassurement I felt much better. "What's wrong with me", I wondered to myself. Suddenly Julie's squeeze got a bit too firm. I looked down and my world exploded.

Julie was missing her middle finger. I let out a little girl scream, but she just laughed. Slowly and with great dread I removed my hand from her's and checked out my own hand.

I, too, only had four fingers.

The cartoon takeover was almost complete. I tried to think of what I should do next, but every time I almost thought of a solution this bright light would come on above my head scaring me silly.

It was too late.

As I type this out, my last journal entry, making typing errors right and left (have you ever tried typing with just eight fingers?), with my world slowly turning a weird shade of pastel hues, I can hear a sort of silly symphony playing in the distant. It's getting closer and closer...

I'm afraid that that's all, folks.