Shalampax Speaks

Well peeps, the results are in. We now know for certain who MadMadMargo’s biological father is. As you probably guessed from the title of this post, it is Roof.

It turns out that Roof’s intuition was right, which is surprising because Shalampaxians are not known for well-honed intuitions. In fact, Shalampaxians are not known for anything that might, by even the wildest stretch of the imagination, be considered to be a positive attribute. So, it was probably just a lucky guess on Roof’s part.

Congratulations, Roof … it’s a girl. Well, actually, it’s a woman, but if her blog-profile picture is anything to go by, she is quite attractive. And, if her blog is anything to go by, she has a very good sense of humor.

MadMadMargo, I don’t know if I should congratulate you or not. Roof is a nice fellow, as Shalampaxians go, but Shalampaxians don’t rank very high on the global niceness scale. Trolls rank higher. Ogres are below trolls, but they generally still rank well above Shalampaxians when it comes to niceness.

One person who is heartbroken over this news is Birdinhand. He is the editor here at Shalampax Speaks and, coincidentally, Roof’s son by another mother. The problem is, Birdinhand has had a serious case of the hots for MadMadMargo ever since he first saw her picture.

Birdinhand’s lust for MadMadMargo didn’t die even after she revealed in a comment that she is a lesbian. Birdinhand was convinced that he could bring her onto our team. Fat chance. From what the women who have been with Birdinhand have told me, he’s more likely to convert a heterosexual woman to lesbianism than the other way around.

However, that doesn’t matter anymore. The question of whether Birdinhand could win MadMadMargo’s heart has now proved to be immaterial. Birdinhand’s lust must remain bottled up. Because MadMadMargo is Birdinhand’s half-sister, an affair between them would be incest and incest is out of the question. Although, I’m told that Birdinhand is considering changing the question, whatever that means.

MadMadMargo hasn’t commented here lately. I hope she’s OK and gets this news.

I don’t know if she has had a chance yet to arrange to meet with Marie, her biological mother, out in California. I’m eager to hear about that reunion, if it happens.

That’s all to report for now, peeps. Stay cool.

Peeps, this is it. The results are in. The Geneva-based genomics expert emailed me his report on the analysis of Marie’s, MadMadMargo’s and Openfly’s DNA. We now have some definitive news about MadMadMargo’s parentage. I don’t know if she’ll be happy with the results or not, but that’s something she’ll have to decide.

If you don’t know what the hell I’m talking about, I suggest you get caught up by reading the chronological collection of my columns on this breaking news by looking at the Openfly Serial – Part 2 category.

I’ll get right to the point. Marie is MadMadMargo’s biological mother. The genomics expert states that, “considering the strong correlation between Marie’s and MadMadMargo’s DNA and, in particular, their mitochondrial DNA, which, in humans, is passed exclusively through the maternal line, there is only a one in 7.56 billion chance that anyone else could be MadMadMargo’s biological mother.”

MadMadMargo, I hope you’re not disappointed about having such a promiscuous, free-spirited mother. But the results are the results.

The genomics expert then looked at Openfly’s DNA and identified what he thought are genes that exist nowhere other than in the DNA of Shalampaxians. Of course, as he makes clear, he can’t be certain of that. However, those genes have never been found in any other human DNA yet analyzed. And there were too many seemingly unique genes to be genetic mutations in Openfly alone. Consequently, the expert is reasonably confident that they must circulate in only the very closed society of Shalampax.

None of those apparently unique Shalampaxian genes appeared in Marie’s DNA. Based on this, the genomics expert concluded that Marie is almost certainly not Shalampaxian, nor does she have any Shalampaxian heritage.

When he analyzed MadMadMargo’s DNA, the genomics expert found that slightly more than 50 percent of the unique Shalampaxian genes in Openfly’s genome are also in MadMadMargo’s genome. Because these genes can come only from a parent and because Marie has none of these genes, the genomics expert concluded that MadMadMargo’s biological father must be a Shalampaxian.

So MadMadMargo, it would appear that you are one of us, well half one of us. Be afraid. Be very afraid. People outside of Shalampax tell us that we are weird to the extreme. At least some of that weirdness is probably in you.

Of course, to us we are normal. So, MadMadMargo, if you’ve got most of our weirdness you’d fit right in here. I’ll have more to say on fitting in here in a minute.

As to confirming specifically who MadMadMargo’s father is, there’s some possibly good news on that front as well. The winds here have died down sufficiently for us to roll out our temporary dock. That is happening as we speak. The supply ship that has been waiting 75 miles offshore for favorable conditions should dock here soon.

Once the ship has offloaded its cargo—something that is always done as quickly as possible because calm periods are brief here—I’ll give the captain the DNA samples from Roof and the two guys Marie specifically remembers sleeping with around the time MadMadMargo was conceived. The captain has promised to dock at the nearest port and courier the samples to a DNA testing lab. We’ll probably have the results in three to four weeks.

(These results may not be conclusive because Marie says she slept with at least a dozen guys around the time MadMadMargo was conceived, but she only remembers the names of two. Thus, it’s possible that MadMadMargo’s father is not one of the three men who submitted DNA samples. Nonetheless, considering MadMadMargo’s birthmark, my money’s on Roof being MadMadMaro’s father, but who knows?)

I’m sure MadMadMargo’s parentage has repercussions for Shalampaxian society that we haven’t considered yet. They will likely become clear in the fullness of time. Or not.

However, there is one implication that we will have to deal with right away. In a comment on a previous post, MadMadMargo expressed a desire to visit Shalampax.

As you know, we don’t get along well with outsiders. In fact, we usually eat (and not in a good way) any foreigners who manage to land on our shores.

Furthermore, MadMadMargo’s expressed desire to come here made a lot of Shalampaxians suspicious. We live on a speck of an island with one building and a few coconut palm trees, we’re surrounded by almost unrelentingly vicious seas, and we’re tormented by virtually continuous ghastly weather. Nobody wants to come here. The only reasons for anyone still living here are the difficulty of getting off the island and, more important, the international arrest warrants sworn out against most Shalampaxians. As a result, some people here suspect that MadMadMargo may have an evil ulterior motive for wanting to come here, although no one can figure out what it might be.

The question then is, considering all of our concerns, does having a Shalampaxian father and a mother who is, more than anyone else, responsible for modern-day Shalampaxian society provide sufficient grounds to give MadMadMargo the right to come here without the threat of being served for dinner?

I’ve informed Parliament of this issue and our parliamentarians are debating it between their naps.

The sides in the debate are forming along gender lines. As a result of seeing the picture that MadMadMargo has posted on her blog, the men fervently desire to have her visit or, better yet, move here.

On the other hand, the women, who have also seen MadMadMargo’s picture, are desperate to keep her out because they think (probably correctly) that there is no way they could compete with MadMadMargo for the hearts and other body parts of Shalampaxian men.

Peeps, I’ll let you know the result of that debate as soon as I hear it. Bye for now.

Peeps, are you as excited as I am?

I’m sorry. Of course, you can’t answer that until you know how excited I am. Well, let me tell you. I’m a guy and about as manly a man as you’ll find in Shalampax, which, admittedly, is not saying much, but my nipples are erect. That’s how electrified I am!

I almost forgot, I haven’t told you yet why I’m so keyed up, have I?

We’re getting close, peeps. We’re really getting close!

MadMadMargo, Marie and Openfly have all emailed me the complete analysis of their respective DNA sequences that they received back from the labs. I’ve emailed those results to a leading genomics expert in Geneva.

The genomics expert will compare Marie’s and MadMadMargo’s genomes to see if Marie is MadMadMargo’s mother.

The genomics expert will also look at Openfly’s DNA to identify any uniquely Shalampaxian genes. If MadMadMargo has any of those genes then one of her parents must be Shalampaxian. Presumably that parent would be her father, but the expert will also search Marie’s DNA to make sure she doesn’t have any Shalampaxian genes. If she does, that would mean that she is somehow Shalampaxian and could have passed those genes to MadMadMargo, which would put a whole new spin on things.

Because the work of decoding Marie’s, Openfly’s and MadMadMargo’s DNA has already been done, I’m told that we can have the results concerning MadMadMargo’s parentage in a matter of days! Yes peeps, my nipples are still erect!

That’s it for now, peeps. If all goes according to plan—not always a good bet in Shalampax—the next time one of my columns appears in this space I should have some answers for you. I don’t know about you, but I’m on pins and needles. Not only that, but I’ve also got to put on a looser fitting shirt so my nipples won’t show.

Peeps, I’m flabbergasted. At least, I think I’m flabbergasted. I don’t actually know what that word means, but it sounds about right and I’ve wanted to use it for a long time now.

If you read my last column you know that Marie revealed to Openfly that Marie was pregnant when she left Shalampax. After she returned to America, Marie gave birth to a girl, MadMadMargo, whose father was, obviously, Shalampaxian.

The story might have ended there, but more shocking news followed. Someone claiming to be MadMadMargo posted a couple of comments on my last column. I have to assume that it is the same MadMadMargo that Marie said was her daughter because how many MadMadMargoes can there be in this world?

MadMadMargo claims that she was left in an orphanage near New Orleans when she was a baby. She was adopted, raised by a loving family and never knew her biological parents.

This puzzled me because, in comments on Shalampax Speaks that were written before this story broke, MadMadMargo claimed to be Shalampaxian. If she was left in an orphanage when she was, to use her words, “just a tiny thing,” how did she know about her Shalampaxian heritage?

When I challenged her, MadMadMargo explained that, to quote her, “When I was only 5 years old I overheard a conversation between my adoptive mother and her sister. My ‘mother’ said she had received a letter from a man who lived in Shalampax and that he was certain I was his child. When I asked my ‘mother’ about this later, she was not forthcoming with any information.”

MadMadMargo went on to request that she, Marie, and any Shalampaxian men who might be her father submit to DNA testing as a way to prove her parentage. This sounds to me like a very reasonable request.

After hearing from MadMadMargo and reflecting on Marie’s revelation to Openfly, I found it disturbing that Marie chose to tell Openfly about her daughter, but omitted the fact that that she gave MadMadMargo up for adoption as a baby. Why did Marie leave out that little tidbit?

And what about that letter from the Shalampaxian man who claimed to be MadMadMargo’s father? How can that be explained? Marie claims that she doesn’t have the foggiest idea as to which of at least a dozen Shalampaxian men is MadMadMargo’s father.

What’s more, there was no Internet back when Marie left Shalampax. And, when it came to the electronic communication options that were available then, we were technology morons. We’re still generally morons, but at least we’ve figured out the technology.

In those days, we communicated with the outside world only when, by some miracle, a ship happened to be passing by on the one day in a hundred when the weather was calm enough for us to paddle out to meet it. So how could this mystery man learn of his daughter and then get a letter to her? I can’t figure it out.

Troubled by what I had learned, I passed this information along to Openfly and asked her to confront Marie with it.

The meeting between Openfly and Marie was not pleasant.

As soon as Openfly revealed what MadMadMargo had said, Marie broke down in a flood of tears and a fit of blubbering. Through her sobs she managed to admit that she had given MadMadMargo up for adoption. After calming down somewhat, Marie told Openfly the story of why she had done so.

When Marie left Shalampax and returned stateside she had no money and little more than the clothes on her back. Well, she also had the clothes on her front, legs, and feet, but you get the point.

On her return, she went to the city where she grew up, New Orleans. Not having any money, she took a part-time job and rented the cheapest place she could find, a tiny studio apartment above a small strip joint hidden away on Iberville Street in the French Quarter.

After MadMadMargo was born, Marie worked hard at getting her figure back. Within a couple of months she was stripping in the club downstairs. Marie swears that she was never a prostitute. True, she wasn’t above accepting gifts from her “gentlemen friends,” as she called them, but she says that the gifts were never a precondition for sex. She had few, if any, preconditions for sex.

On her voyage from Shalampax to the States, Marie came up with her idea for a cult business, but she knew she would need a lot capital to get it started. And that’s not the sort of business idea you can take to a loan officer in a respectable bank. Tight-assed bankers don’t understand these things.

Despite staying in that low-rent, bare-bones, seedy apartment, Marie’s stripping gigs and other part-time jobs barely gave her enough money to feed and clothe her and little MadMadMargo, let alone pay the rent. And those jobs certainly didn’t provide any extra cash to put aside for a future business.

In addition, Marie thought it was wrong to bring MadMadMargo up in such a squalid environment, which was only a few notches above the general conditions in Shalampax. Thus, with deep, deep regret, she put her baby up for adoption.

Marie had always intended to have more children once she got settled, but it took a while to save enough money to start her cult business, which then consumed all of her energies. One thing led to another and she never did have another child.

I know what you’re thinking. This sounds like a tall tale and Marie probably made it up. Maybe, but I specifically told Openfly to not tell Marie where MadMadMargo said she was adopted. Unless Marie and MadMadMargo are working in cahoots or Marie reads the comments on this blog (which is not likely because hardly anyone reads this blog), it is highly unlikely that Marie would have guessed that MadMadMargo was adopted near New Orleans. No, their stories do jive.

We should soon enough know for certain whether Marie is MadMadMargo’s mother. Marie has agreed to submit to DNA testing and she has even volunteered to pay for MadMadMargo’s test if MadMadMargo can’t afford it.

Determining MadMadMargo’s father could be more problematic. Marie still claims that she remembers only a couple of the one or two dozen men she had sex with around the time MadMadMargo was conceived. Marie gave Openfly those two names, but we can’t force them to submit to a paternity test. And it’s possible that MadMadMargo is the daughter of one of the men Marie doesn’t remember.

I’m going to send emails to all Shalampaxian men old enough to be MadMadMargo’s father asking them if they had sex with Marie shortly before she fled Shalampax. I don’t think there will be any difficulty getting guys to admit to that. In fact, the problem will be just the opposite. The number of men who claim to have slept with Marie is far larger than even Marie could have handled in the time she was on our island.

Hell, some guys who weren’t even born yet when Marie was here claim they banged her.

It’s not surprising that guys want to make such claims. Marie is reputed to have been drop-dead gorgeous in her younger days. And when I say “drop-dead gorgeous” I’m not talking about the Shalampaxian standard of beauty, which gives trolls and Playboy Playmates the same beauty grade. (Trust me, if you’ve had anything to eat in the past 24 hours you don’t want to know how ugly you’d have to be to be rated as ugly here.) I’m talking about beauty that would put top fashion models and Hollywood starlets to shame.

I’ll ask all men who, based on their boasts, could have fathered MadMadMargo to submit to DNA testing. But, like I said, I can’t force them if they refuse.

What’s more, even if we do get the right guy to submit to DNA testing, that test will not be conclusive unless it looks at the entire genome of MadMadMargo and her father. Because there are only 4,242 people in Shalampax and no Shalampaxian has ever mated with a non-Shalampaxian other than Marie, our gene pool is shallower than a puddle on a fresh piece of perfectly flat asphalt three days after the last rain. We don’t have any well-paved asphalt in Shalampax, nor have we gone even one day in the last several years without rain, but you get my point. If MadMadMargo’s father is a Shalampaxian, the results of MadMadMargo’s DNA test will show a very close relationship with every Shalampaxian.

Keep in mind too that MadMadMargo was conceived about 56 years ago. Her father would have had to have been at least 12 or 13 years old when he fathered MadMadMargo. (We start young here.) This means that he is at least 68 or 69 years old now. And, apart from death, there’s no upper limit to how old her father might have been when she was conceived. So, it’s very possible that her father is no longer alive. And our burial customs do not leave a body to exhume. So if he’s dead there’s probably no DNA to test.

As I see it, our one real hope for discovering the identity of MadMadMargo’s father is the letter MadMadMargo mentioned. Marie has no explanation for it, but it would seem that someone here in Shalampax either knew or suspected that he was MadMadMargo’s father. I don’t see how that could be true, but if it is, and if he’s still alive, maybe he’ll come forward now that the story is out there. Otherwise, it may remain a mystery forever.

That’s all for now, peeps. I’ll stay on top of this and keep you up-to-date as I get more information.