This will be the final post of this blog. It will sit here until entropy arrives to disassemble its ones and zeros and vanish them into the ether. I write this as the great-great grandson of Matthew Abel and his mind has finally left us. Some called him a hero, others a villain, but to me he was a nuisance. After four long years of spreading raw onion around the threshold of our den, my great-great grandfather has finally let his spirit dissolve into mist.
How does someone describe the titan that was Matthew Abel? He was seventeen feet tall at his tallest, following the incident with the taffy stretcher. The size of a thimble during (his words) “The Adventure of the Coldest Water.” He had fifty-six children, counting the clones, which most people do, had saved four-billion seventy-three thousand and six individuals from death, was responsible for the destruction of the Tandy galaxy four galaxies over and unwittingly influenced the 2056 Secret Presidential elections with his book “Why Uncracked Sidewalk Pavement Matters.”
In short, he changed the world.
You are no doubt aware of the time he single-handledly pulled a steamship out of danger using a long rope, his teeth, and gumption. With his wife, celebrated model Samantha, they created the “Food Slingshot” which showered poor nations of Africa and South America with danishes and cans of beans. His eldest son Zachary went on to discover no less than fifty-three planets Earthens could populate, and only daughter, Lucy, invented the Dark Light Engine which solved the energy crisis across the universe.
Yes, he was a great man, or so he told me. Well, his ghost told me.
In retrospect, those may have been lies. I’ve never actually corroborated anything he told me.
Come to think on it, I’m not even sure it was the right ghost.