Jimbo's Jugular was sitting on a shelf in the dark in a large glass jar with a piece of paper taped to the side. On the paper was written the words "Jimbo's Jugular". Dr. John walked into the room and turned on the light. He quickly glanced around the room until he spotted the jugular. He walked across the freshly waxed tile floor of the lab until he got within arm's reach of the jar full of jugular. He reached up to grab the jar. His hand touched the smooth surface of the glass and his fingers closed tightly around the jar. John's arm slowly lowered the jar off of the shelf. He carried the jar over to a small table. On the table there was a small flashlight, a magnifying glass, a scalpel, and an open book. The book was open to page 134, and the first sentence on the top of that page was simply "The dog limped away, slowly at first, and then gradually increased in speed.” The book was covered in a small layer of dust, because it had not been touched for several days. A dead spider lay across the middle of page 134.

Dr. John set the jar down on the table. The liquid inside the jar shook violently when the bottom of the jar collided with the hard surface of the table. The jugular swayed back and forth in the jar uncertainly. John walked slowly across the room to a small jar of latex gloves. He pulled out a pair of gloves and slid his hands into them with a little POP noise. He walked back to the small table and removed the top of the jugular jar. He had to turn away from the jar for a moment because the smell was so powerful. He turned back towards the table and reached his latex covered hands into the jar. His fingers touched the jugular, and to his surprise, it felt very much like a humongous cow tongue. He lifted the jugular out of the jar slowly. He brought it out of the jar, and moved it across the table. It dripped onto the open book, and the liquid spread across the words of the page, blurring the ink.

John set the jugular down on a piece of surgical plastic and pulled a small microcassete recorder out of the pocket of his white lab coat. He pressed record and spoke slowly and clearly into the microphone. He picked up the scalpel and cut a long thin line down the middle of the jugular. John slid his fingers into the cut and slowly pulled at the cut so he would have a clear view of what was inside. It was sort of pinkish in some spots and sort of green in the spots where it had begun to rot in the jar over the past six weeks. John spoke into the recorder for 3.769 minutes. He then pressed the stop button with his index finger on his right hand. His fingernail was dirty.

John made another cut in the jugular, and once again examined it, telling the recorder what he noticed. The third time he cut the jugular was when he began to feel a little queasy. Inside the top of the jugular was a small group of spider eggs which had been laid after a spider climbed into the mouth of Jimbo's corpse after he had been drug out of the meat grinder. Some of the eggs had hatched, and dozens of baby spiders came running out of the knife wound made be Dr. John. He stitched up where he had cut, and then he slowly lifted the jugular back into the jar. He replaced the lid onto the jar, and he threw away the latex gloves. John stood up, and walked across to the door. He turned off the lights, and exited the room. He closed the door, and walked down the dimly lit hospital hallway. He said good night to Sam, the surgeon in the intensive care unit, and then he left the hospital. Outside there was a light drizzle, so Dr, John lifted the back of his coat over his head to avoid getting wet.

Dr. John ran across the parking lot until he got to his 1986 DeLorian. He raised up the gull wing door and stepped inside. He turned on the radio to hear the voice of Johnny Mathis singing up a storm. John doesn't like Johnny Mathis, so he switched over to an oldies station just in time to hear the Beatles singing Yellow Submarine. He drove down 14th street until he got to Mahogany Ave., where he turned left and drove down about a half a block to where his small two bedroom house with a yellow fence around the yard. He stepped out of his car and opened the gate. He walked quickly up to his door, where he pulled the key out of his front right pocket. He unlocked the door, and walked inside. He took off his coat and tossed it into a heap on the floor. He sat down on the couch and switched on the TV. He watched an old rerun of Seinfeld until about 9:24, and then he went up stairs to get ready for bed. He got undressed, and then put on his plaid flannel pajamas. He put on his night cap, and climbed into his twin size bed with a Donald Duck blanket on it.

He pulled the blanket up to 2 3/4 " away from his chin, and fell asleep in approximately 6 minutes, and 43 seconds. He dreamed that he was a cowboy, and he fought alongside of The Lone Ranger, and he shot all of the bad guys who came into town looking for trouble. He always won, of course. After about four and 3/8 hours of sleeping, he woke up, and rolled over onto his side. Then he fell asleep again. This time he dreamed that he was a Canadian Princess, and he and his royal unicorn flew all around the city and shot lawyers in the knee and ankle. The unicorn couldn't shoot anyone, though. Only Canadian Princesses can do that. Canadian Princesses can do anything that they want.