Ryan Chartrand
Editor’s note: The Bunion is fake news. Period.
SAN LUIS OBISPO, CA – It was a great day in 1996 when Ununbium, the world’s atomic element number 112, was created by researchers at Gesellschaft fur Schwerionenforschung laboratory in Germany. The general public erupted in riots of celebration the likes of which would never be seen again, until days later at whichever Boston Red Sox game came soonest after the event. But for those who desirously followed the hunt for the elusive element number 117, the “Abominable CH3OH-man” of chemistry lore, it was yet another failure in a long string of searches. Now, for atom aficionados and element emancipators everywhere, the search for the fabled element 117 has come to a strange and abrupt end.
Substantial amounts of Element 117 were identified for the first time ever in urine, “filled to the line, please,” in a urethra pinchingly small plastic cup by Patrick Belly, a local cabdriver and home brew enthusiast. Scientists hypothesized that Belly, who was randomly selected for drug testing by the taxi-cab union, had absorbed the element into his system from an unknown source.
“I was knee-walking drunk. I couldn’t believe they picked 6 a.m. of the day before Mardi Gras Eve to hold a piss test,” Belly said. “Of course I was celebrating the night before, and it takes more than a few Zs to straighten up after partaking in my private stock, Hell, I could have poured the contents of that cup back down my throat to keep my buzz and my job going – it was probably one third piss and two thirds brew. But, I did what any blue collar man would do in my situation – crossed my fingers, pulled out my peter, and hoped that the concentration would somehow be high enough to acidly dissolve the test mechanism.”
Scientists learned upon closer inspection that element 117 was a mutated alcohol molecule, allowing it to escape detection and allowing a heavily intoxicated Belly to retain his chauffeur’s license. Belly was apprehensive when confronted for questioning; refusing to talk. Still, he welcomed the scientist into his home for a look around and a taste of his latest home brew, when a freak power outage hit the grid and the pints of beer glowing neon green in the dark of the makeshift pub did all the talking for Belly.
Using the pints as flashlights, scientists examined Belly’s bar, and discovered that he had unwittingly created a supercollider in the routing of his high pressure network of keg tubing, which, zig-zagging great distances from room to room in his ranch-style house to provide delicious beer to guests at nearly 12 different locations, had provided just enough distance and pressure to accelerate alcohol molecules to nearly the speed of light. Those factors, combined with just the right ingredients, had somehow succeeded in synthesizing a molecule scientists had been unable to create.
“I’ve been brewing and enjoying my own brews for years now,” Belly said. “As for the ingredients, that’s a trade secret. I always thought I would get rich off my brews someday, I just didn’t think it would be like this.” Added Belly, “I’ve been thinking about a name for element 117…I’m thinking either Brewtonium or Beerlium.”