Like Bruce Banner buried under beakers of gamma experiments, I too found myself buried under academic duties. Also like the BB of comic book legend, I felt something stirring inside, something I felt forced to hide and contain. I did everything in my power today to hold back the force that began somewhere in my diaphragm and threatened to work its way outward with a manic fury.
In an effort to contain it, I redoubled my focus on my assignments, clearing two sets of student work off my desk by around lunch. I buried myself in a wall of music, using my earphones to stream music from my computer, it didn't work. I was like a victim of restless leg syndrome, but it spread quickly to my hands as I drummed atop my desk, using my wedding ring as the occasional cymbal stroke on the Formica top of my desk.
I began to worry about the other people in my building. I didn't know what form this force would take if it was allowed to burst free from its containment. I plugged my headphones into my phone and streamed music there. Music is supposed to tame the savage beast, but it wasn't working. It was exacerbating the problem. I found myself walking in time, faster to the hip hop beats, slower to the bluegrass. It didn't matter what song it was, it felt like an incantation meant to draw forth this unstoppable inner force.
I fled the building. I fled campus. I took myself on a walk around the neighborhoods of Forest Grove. I snapped and whistled to the music, anything to stop myself from succumbing to the monster inside me who threatened the very sanity and safety of those around me, but I inevitably failed.
Like Bruce Banner morphing into his alter-ego the Hulk, the inner force broke free. Instead of bubbling my flesh in monstrous transformation of my physical self, a single bubble rose in my chest, up my throat, and out through my mouth. I found myself singing out loud in the rain in the tricycle ridden neighborhoods surrounding campus. I was transformed into Singing Idiot, hero of the mundane and defender of the ridiculous. I belted my tunes through the snow mixed with rain and traced my way through suburbia, ever glancing at the buttoned down windows of the surrounding houses.
It has yet to be determined if there were any eyewitnesses to verify Singing Idiot's appearance, or if he might simply vanish into the tomes of urban myth. The beast was set free today, but eventually I reigned him under control. Who knows when he will strike next?
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