Lightening streaked across the sky, as it will when there are mad men running around in basements up to no good. Beakers with thick liquids and pipes of every circumference ran about the dungeon-like room.

Two men, dressed in grime covered lab coats ran to and fro bumping into each other like windup toys turned loose in a cardboard box, issuing grunts or curses.

Finally, an apple shaped cooking timer rang out, piercing the hushed sounds of the makeshift lab like a mosquito ring tone grabs the attention of a teenager in World History class.

The men scrambled over one another to the table. The beast open its black bulbous eyes. There was a minute trace of a red iris. It wriggled three clawed digits toward the men; straining against the bonds that held it down. Its snapping maw revealing multiple rows of sharp spiky teeth.

“Doctor,” gasped the smaller man, “do you think it will escape?”

The Doctor simply replied, “No,” as he brought down the fly swatter on the one inch critter with deadly accuracy.