It all started innocently enough. Nobody knew how many species inhabited the earth. A dozen? A hundred? More than that?!? Evidence of this scientific controversy is found in a CNN.com article:

"Some people who study insects think there may be as many as 100 million species out there," said Jeff McNeely, the chief scientist at the World Conservation Union.

"But if you took a poll of biologists, I think most would say there are somewhere around 15 million," he told Reuters by telephone from the organization's Swiss headquarters.

They go on to further explain why this might be a problem for the international community of animal people (the so-called "biologists"):

"The implication of not knowing exactly how many species there are is that we can't tell if we are actually making progress on the 2010 target," said McNeely.

I understand the problem. The Biologists want to make sure they don't run out of animals before 2010, causing great embarrassment through the scientific community (and here I'm just referring to the biologists again, don't come crying to the physicists). I can certainly understand this concern, I just don't know if I approve of their methods.

Sure, it was all nice and well in the early stages. You get a horse and a donkey to hump and you get a mule - everyone's happy. Hell, nobody even noticed when they started mixing up the insects because, frankly, they all look the same. And yes, the species count went up. "Progress" was being made. But then the biologists went to far and we've begun to find that nature bites back when you take her for granted...and she has very pointy teeth. Very pointy, indeed.

A couple scientists, locked in a military bunker, exchange high fives. They've done it! They've created the most unlikely of matches.

It wasn't easy. Coaxing a spider and a goat into that most passionate of embraces take skill that few appreciate. It's match making at its highest level. But the job was done and the military was quite pleased. It was the ultimate killing machine: the proportional strength of a spider combined with the voracious appetite of a goat. And fangs. Really, really big, nasty fangs. And a little beard.

Goats have beards.

But as it always seems to, nature finds a way to serve its own purpose, and all the razor wire in the world isn't going to change that. The goat-spider was gone, and the full folly of man's arrogance was about to come to head.

The results...

were devastating.

A legion of the country's finest scientists were called together in a secret think-tanks to advise the government in the best course of action. Naturally, I was there, being a formost expert on all things goat-related. It didn't take long to realize that there was only one person who could handle a destructive force of this magnitude.

Sigorney Weaver!


I veto'd this choice, however. I still haven't forgiven her for Aliens 3 and 4. I mean, Newt survives for months alone in a nest of aliens and then dies in a plane crash?!? GAH! SO. RAGE. FILLED.

(breath...breath...)

Well, they all said, if I did like the solution they came up with, then perhaps I had a suggestion of my own? Well, of course I did. When you are faced with a blood-sucking goat, what better to best it than a goat-sucking monster? Ladies and gentlemen, I give you...

The Chupacabra!


Laugher filled the room. You fool, they said, there's no such thing are the chupacabra. That's just a myth made up to explain all of the mysteriously sucked goats.

My face turned a deep red. I had to think fast or risk losing my credibility within the scientific community. Then it struck me! My army of the undead!

But, as they say, hindsight is 20-20. Who knew unleashing an army of the undead into the world would be a bad idea?

*shrug*

Got that little blood-sucking bastard, though.