The story of pizza cat

Pizza Cat for Website.jpg

Deep in the bowels of the infamous particle physics laboratory known as CERN, Hungarian particle physicist Dr. Hugo Polshivich was experimenting with the effect of proton collision on everyday objects. Often ostracized by his fellow scientists for his refusal to accept the discovery of the Higgs-Boson, Dr. Polshivich had slowly reclused himself within his meager lab to do his work in isolation. He couldn’t even use the staff break area in fear of harsh, mocking japes from the other physicists at CERN.
            So far the doctor’s experiments had yielded no new discoveries or conclusions. The particle accelerator he was using for his work had no extraordinary impact on the objects he tested. The collisions did not emit any new particles, the sensors picked up no interesting data, and the objects didn’t even have the decency to disintegrate into their base elements when experimented on; they simply increased in temperature a few degrees before returning to their normal state.
            During the early-afternoon of Novemeber 15th, Dr. Polshivich had run out of objects to test. Realizing that his experiment was fruitless, he came to the conclusion that the laboratory’s particle accelerator was good for nothing aside from warming things up. Upon glancing at his cold lunch Dr. Polshivich realized he had one last thing to test.
            In order to prevent undue radiation from influencing the data of the sensitive experiments at the facility, the only microwave at the laboratory was located in the break room. Fearing to tread upstairs near the other scientists to get to warm his lunch (a meager, greasy piece of pizza from the night prior) Dr. Polshivich placed his slice on the testing tray, slid the apparatus into its appropriate compartment, and waited for the particle accelerator to cycle up to speed.
            Unbeknownst to him, a maintenance hatch had been left ajar further up the line. CERN’s beloved laboratory pet, a haggard gray cat affectionately known as Jermaine, had gotten curious and wiggled his way into the pitch black tunnels of the Super Proton Synchrotron accelerator. As Dr. Polshivich hit the start button for the device, a hum emanated from further down the line. Jermaine perked up his ears, listened, and decided to investigate the noise for himself.
            In the meantime, Dr. Polshivich was eagerly watching his experiment. While pacing back and forth between the computer monitor displaying the particle accelerator data and the view port showing his lunch in the test chamber, the machine beeped shrilly; the Super Proton Synchrotron had spun up to speed and was awaiting the doctor’s command. The doctor opened up the control hatch, turned the machine’s safety key, and pulled a squeaky lever to the on position.
            The lights dimmed, flickered, and then turned off completely. A red safety light came to life on the ceiling and filled the dark room with an eerie, brooding glow. The computer monitors were ablaze with data, screaming for attention with piercing chirps and squeals. The text on the screen flashed “anomaly detected” over and over again. The safety light on the ceiling began to blink, glowing brighter with every flash before exploding, raining plastic shards onto the dark concrete floors. The computers turned off and the particle accelerator ceased its vibrations. The room turned black, the air grew still, and the machines grew silent. Dr. Polshivich’s laboratory was completely dark, aside from a dull green glow coming from the viewing window of the particle accelerator. Equally full of anticipation and dread, the doctor approached to look.

Gently, he unlocked the machine and loosed the testing tray from its slot. The air filled with the smell of grease and pepperoni accompanied by a distinct, burned hair smell. He removed the cover, waved away the smoke, and immediately let the tray fall from his hands. Upon the silver test platter his slice had fused with something remarkably feline. Its eyes opened, blinked, and met his. Its mouth quivered before the slice-turned-monstrosity coughed, spat out a hairball, and said,

“Whats the wifi password?”