Experimental Animal Husbandry: A Diary

This diary is one that has recently been unearthed from an underground bunker located on a plot of land, formerly a piece of farmland located outside of Albany, NY. These are not my words. They are the words of a man from another time. They are the words of a man obsessed. What he was obsessed with will become apparent in due time. However, let me state that his words are disturbing, his psyche scarred, and his logic, completely faulty. Some of the things he said, and the pictures he provided, are without a doubt, the products of a mind so damaged and deranged, one might actually feel pity; pity coupled with complete and "udder" disgust. As you can no doubt tell, my opinion of this man and his work are set. It is now time to form your own, if you dare. 

December 3rd, 1921

I have had a breakthrough. Whilst sitting upon my throne, gazing upon the animals grazing in the greenery of my pastures, I saw the industriousness of the pig and I saw the production value of the chicken. Maybe the methane has clouded my thoughts, but methinks a change is in order. One that will change the entire modern world! I need to obtain some sources of funding, as this will not be a venture that is stumbled into cheaply, nor will it be one that will allow for the division of my thoughts or efforts. This will consume me for some time, but in the end, the product will be visible for the entire world. 

I will mate them. The pig and the chicken. They are both farm animals, and in soforth as they frolic in the same wastes, they must be composed of the same material fitting for marriage of their considerable progeny. The methane is undoubtedly causing this pain in my head. I shall sleep on the matter, and hope that the clarity of sleep and less methane will show me the way in this matter.

December 4th, 1921

With the weakness of the dollar, investors shall be hard to obtain. No new revelations. Putting the my largest pig and my highest producing chicken in the same pen produced little results. Primarily talons gouging upon the flank of the pig. 

December 22nd, 1921

Guffaws lingered behind me as I left the Goldman Sachs office in New York City. I admit, lying about my role with Sears and Roebuck may not have helped my case. I cannot imagine the source of their laughter however. Perhaps my hair was unkempt or my unshaven visage took them aback. I fear these considerable men will use their influence to keep me from my goal. I shall take another name in my future ventures to the city.

January 1st, 1922

The new year has not blessed me with any further meetings, but progress must be about moving onwards! The pig and chicken, deprived of all food, have not mated as I hoped they would. Apparently the pictures I showed them did nothing to inform them of what I wanted. 

Where is the room for misunderstanding?

January 3rd, 1922

I have all but abandoned the generic means of creating a "chig" as I have christened my imminent creation. I will proceed with surgical means as a backup. While I have not received any formal training in the veterinary sciences, I have carved chickens, turkeys, ducks, and pigs at formal affairs of state, and therefore find myself qualified to perform this simple artificial coupling of two life forms.

January 4th, 1922

I have failed.

January 7th, 1922

The moonshine will last me through the night. There is no choice but to proceed with qualified individuals. I have procured a veterinarian from the city and with some coercion techniques I garnered from the war, he will aid me. As a backup, I have paired a horse and my dog in the same pen, with something the clerk promised was soothing and would undoubtedly lead to mating, the curious sounds of Louis Armstrong.

January 8th, 1922

I woke up this morning to find a horse in my bed. She promptly left with barely a whinny. 

January 10th, 1922

From the course of action I have engaged in over the past two months I have only a horse that will not look at me in the eye, one ruined chicken, and one ruined pig. This was a disaster of the utmost proportions. It is time for phase two of the plan. Phase two calls for careful calculation. More moonshine. It mostly calls for more moonshine. I shall also scavenge for mushrooms. Also, I will need to find a cow already in heat for my male horse's seed. It is in a jar on the top shelf of my bureau. 

January 22nd, 1922

Forgive me if I am mistaken, but it appears my fertile cow gave birth last night to a human baby. Tonight I will eat well.

January 23rd, 1922

Abominations. I abominated the nation with    It is time for the cow

Human flesh is tasting mighty close to chicken tonight. Perhaps pig. I read once of a tribe in the South Pacific that 

Long human pig.

JAnuaRy 9921 Failed