As most of you astute and regular teacupmammoths.com readers know, Richmond is forever in peril of any number of sub terrene menaces, the foremost of which is, of course, Spanky, Lord of the Mole People, and his Legions of Other, Less Regal Mole People, who, from time to time, make their presence known by shaking up the city and stealing area lawn ornaments (in particular, they have an affinity for garden gnomes and those goofy looking old-lady-with-her-old-lady-drawers-showing things that are usually put up by old ladies whose sense of decency has decayed with the onset of geezerdom).  As such, most of the less jaded and ennui-infested among you will be shocked to learn that Massachusetts, home of Ted Kennedy and possibly maple syrup (who, thanks to recent legislation in that state, can finally marry each other) has recently suffered from an epidemic of exploding manholes in its more urban areas.  Yes, Massachusetts, long famed and venerated for the well-known non-volatility of its manholes, has been struck by the nightmare of every state (except for Wyoming, which as everyone knows, doesn’t exist), a flaming manhole epidemic (The Flaming Manhole Epidemic, by the way, would make a good name for a band, though not one I would ever want to be associated with).

            Now, you’re probably thinking exactly what I thought when I first learnt of this frighteningly hilarious new development, that clearly Spanky and his ilk (he does have ilk of course) had decided to move their operations Northward, in hopes of finding a city somewhere less courageous an silly than Richmond (good luck with that one, Spanky, Lord of the Mole People!).  However, it happens to be the case that Mole People cannot long survive without a steady supply of tobacco and ridiculous city council members, so the true cause of this most worrisome of developments way up North must be something even more sinister than the likes of Spanky.  What could possibly be so diabolically evil as to turn innocent and unsuspecting manholes into flaming doom pits?  Well, since one generally expects better of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, and the Rat King is still settling into his new morning show with Katie Couric, there is but one conclusion left to us: Morlocks.

            I know, I know, morlocks are generally not supposed to show up until civilization has fallen and half the human race has devolved into a race of pretty, yet dimwitted Keebler elves.  And yet, while it remains all too obvious that people have a lot of catching up to do in the pretty department, dimwittedness is sweeping the nation like Beatlemania, assuming that Beatlemania made people into fools.  In any case, this recent spate of manhole detonations attests to the fact that for whatever reason, there are now enough dumb people in the world to feed a colony of morlocks (at least up in Massachusetts, though I’m sure I’m not the only one who suspected something like this was coming sooner or later up yonder).  Even now, they doubtless toil away far beneath the unsuspecting city streets, working away at maintaining all their ancient morlock kitchen appliances that they’ve forgotten how to use for their original purposes.  Though if they have a Zamboni machine down there or something, or maybe an old ferris wheel or an EasyBake Oven, that would actually be kind of cute (“Hurrrgh! Krog make Teddy Grahams! Mmmmm!).

            Really, we probably should have been expecting something like this, and been taking steps to prepare for it.  I mean, if there aren’t any morlocks yet, where did Michael Jackson, Ron Howard’s little brother (Zlontar Howard) and Mickey Rooney come from?  Obviously, they’re all part of a morlock advance force, sent to stupid up the human population and make us tastier to their evil masters down in the ancient and aeon-fabled caverns of Thraar (which as everybody knows, are smack dab right under Boston).  But take heart, for after consulting with all of the finest morlock experts in the world (except, of course, for the ones who are themselves morlocks, since that would be pretty retarded) I have come up with a number of ways that you can keep yourself safe from the Morlock Menace.

            First, if you’re ever walking by a manhole, and it explodes, and a voice from within the roiling flames asks if you’d like some candy, or possibly a new bicycle, just walk away, and go tell the nearest misunderstood Victorian time machine making guy what just happened.  If you can’t find one of them, go steal one of those angsty-looking manikins they have at Kohl’s and throw it down the manhole.  Morlocks are really pretty gullible, so they’ll eat it and spend the rest of the day coughing up cardigans (Coughing Up Cardigans, by the way, would be a totally excellent name for a band).  Also, next time you pass a manhole, even if it shows no sign of detonating in the near future, hop up and down on top of it while taunting the morlocks below.  Morlocks, you see, cannot abide a good stiff taunting, and any that hear you will probably become so angry and out of sorts that they’ll make a serious tactical error, such as setting themselves on fire or eating a boy band.  Finally, get some of those Bigfoot slippers and wear them every time you go out.  That way, any morlocks who happen to be watching you through a storm drain or something will think that you’re a Yeti or something, and since Yetis are called, not without good reason, “The Spam of the Giant Legendary Ape-Man World” the morlocks will probably just leave you alone and wait for someone tastier to go by.  Or, maybe you’d just be better off staying away from Massachusetts entirely until this whole thing blows over.