No one knew what happened that day. The past reconciles with the present, allowing for memories to amaze. And yet, no one could begin to wonder why this indomitable process has suddenly stopped. Maybe it was Ogee and his Psytropico Machine that held the blame.
Now Ogee is a hard-working employee of a renowned company, always on time, always meeting his deadlines. Despite these, his character needed certain ‘tweakings.' Not that he's crazy, far from it. He could possibly be the sanest person from here to the moon. He even understands the reason for spoons and forks or why copy machines emit that fantastical glare each time they function. Nevertheless, something profound has always hung around him. A certain je ne sais qua that has made him unique – that severed him - from the millions of other species in this planet.
As a child of eight, he has discovered how to communicate with ants and several other six-legged creatures (with the exception of one very tense spider that lost two of its legs). Using only a can opener, a box of matches and a soap dish, he came upon this ingenious realization. First, he bashed the ants with the metal can opener, and then lit the plastic soap dish and poured a reservoir of melting plastic on a mound of those similarly hard-working ants.
Naturally, those fairly intelligent creatures chorused their curses and cries of pain, and took a stand.
"A good day to ye, li'l boy," said one covered with the now-hardening plastic from its abdomen to the thorax.
Surprised, the still-juvenile Ogee began to scratch his head fervently. "I didn't know ants could talk."
The ant shook its head wearily. "And you call yourself the smartest creatures on the planet...tsk, tsk, tsk." It didn't even seem to mind that only its head appear to function normally beneath all those synthetic sludge.
Again, Ogee scratched his head and realized he hasn't even stopped. "Do you want some candy? I heard you like sweets."
Suddenly, the ants began to sway and with the motion came a chant of ‘sweets for the sweet.' What more, they appeared to be in some sort of hypnotic trance.
The chant started to grow loud and soon, little Ogee couldn't take it anymore. He started jumping and thrashing about, kicking his Spartan slippers up into the air. The sound of those elegant slippers bouncing against the concrete only galvanized his confusion and soon he was on the pavement seeking ways to end this nightmarish reality.
There's only one way, he thought. His eyes grew eerily wide and then he was shoving the plastic-imbued ants into his mouth by the handful. Beneath his grinding teeth, he could still hear the chants of the dying creatures.
"Sweets for the sweet!"
Only when he has swallowed the six-legged creatures did the insanity find its silence.
After that disturbing experience, Ogee has since achieved a level of intelligence found only in the bigger mammals from the Mesozoic Era.
Having recognized the nativity of his own genius has given him a renewed purpose in life.