Ah, life, the uncomfortable enema between birth and death.

Waddling round with a colon full of water is fairly similar to my current existence as I wait for whichever brand of plague I contracted on a recent train journey to depart my system so that I can get on with the process of trying to lob my grandfather’s ashes off the side of HMS Belfast without anyone noticing. It is at times like this when we must sit and ponder… yes… it makes you ponder why the hell is it so hard to teach a hamster to smoke.

  Having been inspired by numerous hours of Open University science shows devoted to showing why one smiling atom chooses to mount another atom and create zinc I have decided to investigate.

Now, I admit that some might find the concept abhorrent, ranting on and on about animal rights, but, let’s face it, a hamster is unable to fetch me a beer without collapsing and thus it (and the odd elderly relative), are fair game in for scientific research.

Look at it another way: How demeaning and cruel is it to keep the buggers in cages when they should really be charging across the savannah in herds of thousands in pursuit of their natural prey, the antelope?

I see that as a terrible mockery of nature’s rights and so I shall blaze a trail for the critters, not only shall I set it free, I shall give it the choice of whether it wishes to smoke… much like every human being over 12. I am empowering the furry scrotum with legs.

   Day One:  

4.00pm: I bought one hamster from the pet shop and one ounce of rolling tobacco and some Rizlas from the newsagents next door.

  4.30pm : Lost interest and went to bed. Left hamster swimming in sink.

  Day Two:

  5.00pm : Remember about hamster and name him Desmond after the former archbishop.

  5.10pm : After rubbing him vigorously with a dishtowel I trap him under an upturned glass and begin trimming a Rizla to a size more appropriate for his hamster-sized mouth (1/4 of an inch). After rolling a few strands of tobacco into it I lift the glass, slide the lit cigarette underneath, and retire to bed.

  Day Three:

  4:29pm : Purchase second hamster after a heated argument in which I throw Desmond’s asphyxiated corpse down on the counter and question the shop owner’s family heritage.

  8:20pm : Christen the replacement Lovepanzer 7 after I notice that it responds with disinterest to all other names. I choose to antagonize it with a biro for ten minutes in an attempt to replicate the antisocial mood of Desmond after a day immersed in soapy water.

  8.55pm : Replicate tiny roll-up and this time carefully force the cigarette into hamster’s mouth with the aid of a rake designed for Bonsai trees.

  8:56pm : Subject: Lovepanzer appears agitated.

  8.57pm : I notice that, much like those who desperately wished to be accepted at school but were not willing to make the supreme sacrifice, the hamster is not actually inhaling.

  8.58pm : Proceed with gentle squeezing of the hamster until it appears empty and then I release, watching with satisfaction as it draws deep upon the nicotine goodness. Repeat.

  Day Four:

  7.55pm : Subject Lovepanzer seems agitated and unresponsive. I offer him another cigarette and he lunges violently forward, only prevented from reaching my throat by his restraints. I consider sedating subject but find that no orifice is large enough to accept the funnel for the gin. With two fingers I try to apply that nerve pinch thing Mr. Spock used.

  Day Five:

  2:34pm : I am refused another hamster on the grounds that I am “drunk and dangerous and that I will be arrested if I continue to throw deceased vermin against their window…”

  2.35pm : Loudly scream “You’ll get what’s coming to you, you… (unintelligible)… and you’re bastard shop.” Before being wrestled to the ground.

  2.36pm : Break away from captors and begin staggering down street, pushing wheelie-bins into the path of pursuers.

  11.59pm : Begin pushing burning newspaper through letterbox.

  Day Six:

  12.01am : Begin pushing burning newspaper through correct letterbox.

  12.45am : Indulge in activities unknown.

  Day Six?:   ??.????: Awake in cell, badly burnt and covered in the substances of the universe.  

Summary:  

 This experiment cost me over £15 and as such it can only be judged a failure. The resulting criminal charges will distort the graph dramatically. The one plus point is that I have proven that any creature, when compressed and released, can be made angry.