You see, what we’re talkin’ about here is an organism that imitates other life-forms, and it imitates ’em perfectly. When this thing attacked our dogs it tried to digest them — absorb them, and in the process shape its own cells to imitate them.
Or it could just be winter in Western Maine. I can’t quite tell yet. Every time winter rolls around I feel like I’m staring in a remake of The Thing.
I don’t feel like I’m in The Thing each winter because of all the mutants chasing me around my home; that happens all year round. I feel like I’m in the movie because of the frosty weather. All of my friends live south of me, so they think that winter is a grand ole time. They’re down there, sitting pretty with 3 inches of snow every year. We get 3 inches of snow an hour sometimes, and that’s no fun. I wouldn’t mind so much, but I’m the only one around who can shovel the damn stuff. You start running out of places to put it after a while.
So the next time someone tells you that winter is full of wholesome fun for the whole family, I want you to punch em’ in the spine for me. I’d do it myself, but I’m still trying to shovel all of this god damn snow out of my driveway.