Carissa and Emily Present:


Six Different Shades of Butt Ugly

A story of love, loss and the acquisition of guinea pigs



            This tale may begin slightly sad, but we ask the audience to bear with us. I, Emily, am a huge animal lover. I always wish to have at least one creature to love on, and since the loss of the illustrious Squeaker B. Malsack, esquire, and Orion the oracle of all snakeness, its been pretty grim around here. So… I decided I had to find a new pet Mom and Dad wouldn't tar and feather me for bringing into our sterile home. I found the answer in the guinea pig. Mom was accepting of this rodent, merely because she had one as a child. Dad, well, I'm not sure Dad was even certain what a guinea pig was. But he grunted his approval and the story was on….

            So I sent word to my pet guru, a.k.a. Crissa, and told her I was in the market for a hairy meatloaf with legs. The search then commenced.



            Ah, yes. When the fair and lovely Emily sent word of her desire for the hairy meatloaf, I began a thorough and tireless search (which would be me stumbling in the local pet shop and asking the man in charge-"have you any pigs?"). I happened upon an unassuming cage and within it's magical confines were the most glorious and shining examples of guinea pigdom I have ever had the blessing to lay eyes on. With a giddy shriek, I fled the store and called my cohort in crime. Lady luck had smiled upon us indeed.



            Well, needless to say I was quite excited (no I didn't pee my pants). We set the date for the great guinea pig exodus. Well, on the eve of that glorious day, the guinea pig magic was tangible. Many dreams were afoot. For Carissa and I both, visions of guinea pigs danced in our heads. It was fate. We knew we must retrieve the hairy meatloaf. The next day when Crissa arrived to whisk me away to the land of pets, the air reeked with joy and laughter, for we knew that by this time the next day a pig would have taken up residency in the Malsack household.



            The joy that Emily spoke of was indeed contagious, as my lovely roommate, Cherith and her friend Tony were eager to accompany us on our quest. Then we arrived at Little Paulie's Pet Store. We entered with caution and nervous apprehension of what was to come. The man in charge of the store leered at us and laughed insanely as we made our way back to the aforementioned magical cage of cavies. Every girl found her favorite little piggy. Mine was by FAR the most beautiful and magical of them all. He/she was a shiny tri-colored specimen, which had a bit more age on it than the others. I forged an instant bond with the screaming, cussing little ball of love. It seems, however, that most individuals do not share my love of the ugly, or slightly criminally insane, hard-core pets. Apparently, most people like pets that are attractive or at least love them back…how truly odd. Still, my heart beat solely for this devastatingly attractive guinea pig. But alas, we were not here to find me another pet because I already am the beaming, proud owner of one immortal rat and his squirrel-looking cage-mate and a dog that might possibly be crossed with something in the weasel family (mink, otter?). Anyway, back to the plot of this tale…


            Carissa's beautiful and magical piggy was…well actually not beautiful or magical at all. In fact he was so mottled and disgusting I dutifully dubbed him Sir Six Different Shades of Butt Ugly. If you sit and contemplate for about twenty minutes and come up with the ugliest guinea pig you can, this thing will beat it in an ugly contest. Plus it was one of Satan's demons sent to Earth to torment those stupid people who would be idiotic enough to buy this evil creature. He wasn't just slightly insane. This was a pig that had gone far past the edge. I however, promptly fell in love with the sweetest guinea pig. He is a solid cinnamon graham cracker color, and is the sweetest most magical piglet ever. For our guinea pig hero is only two weeks old. I would ask him to say hi, seeing as he is sitting in my lap, but he is a very shy baby. I have properly named him Monsieur Gershwin Pumpkin Malsack (Cherith provided the Pumpkin part). He is the biggest sweetie a meatloaf could be. Anyways, while we were at the pet store guinea pig fever was sweeping the people who had accompanied me on my quest.



             For the record, my chosen pig was NOT a hell-demon. He/she was beautiful and kind hearted…once you looked past the screeching and kicking taloned pigfeet aimed precisely at your eyes or vital organs. And I ask you, is it now BAD to be mottled? For I am indeed mottled and nobody in their right mind has taken issue with THAT as of yet--and if they did, I would destroy the offender and all they stood for. Anyway, this is the love that is lost in this story. I knew that another animal in my life would put me far over the edge and earn me the title of "crazy pet lady" so I placed that ravishingly lovely guinea pig back in his cage with a tear glistening in my eyes. I am sure that as I placed him in the shavings, maybe…just maybe, the guinea pig cried, too.  And then I turned to discover that guinea pig attraction is indeed infectious. For there stood Cherith, her lips a-quiver and a look of squishy – kissy - mooshy puppy love in her eyes, holding her own chosen piglet. Indeed, she was in love. It was at this time that an infidel was discovered in our midst…Tony was along with us solely to discourage Cherith's purchase of pigness. So my weeping roommate decided that it would be best to think about whether having her own hairy shrieking meatloaf was indeed a good idea so she put her chosen baby pig back in the cage with his siblings. I pause a moment to ask…who THINKS about getting a pet? In my experience as both a pet psychic and pet guru, I have never used my mental faculties when acquiring animals. One must think only with the heart and the wallet.



            And we wonder why Carissa's pets are odd? I would say that that adequately explains it. So I took Gershwin home. Carissa and I had already acquired all the guinea pig essentials. We built him a grand mansion and let him roam it. He was superbly pleased by his new accommodations (though extremely chicken as any of you who have dealt with his kind would know is characteristic to his species). I immediately became the blubbering, simpering, baby-talking pet owner that comes out in all of us when we receive a new animal (Carissa can tell you the blubbering is certainly true, as she had to listen to it). I have owned Gershy for all of two days and am simply enamored of him. If any of you happen to see me in the next few days, or next few weeks, do not be surprised if Gershwin is the main topic of my conversation.



             And so it was done. Emily had received the blessing that only a true animal lover could understand… she is now the proud owner of a nearly inanimate cylindrical shaped creature made mostly of hair and toenails. And so I thought it was all over…but  upon the dawn of the next day, I found my roommate excitedly counting her dollars with trembling hands in hopes of bringing her own pet home. With joy and gladness, I accompanied her to the pet store and there we bought the dark brown, talkative guinea pig that I shall call simply 'Sir Yet To Be Named'. So the house of Treu and Rivara has also been infiltrated by the presence of a guinea pig and all is gloriously well.

And so we conclude this tale…or do we? I leave you with these final thoughts. Is it possible that this love of guinea pigs might just become a trend? Shall we all find ourselves desperately pining for the love of a hairy moving meatloaf? Will this not stop until they have completely invaded our homes and lives? What is it about these animals, which are clearly very pointless, that we are all so attracted to? Thoughts to ponder for years to come…