I can't look away

This is what I am reading right now: "A full body of fur, along with an extremely physical routine, also causes Cosmo a great deal of discomfort." It's part of a yellowed newspaper clipping I have taped to my wall. The clipping is directly behind my computer, and that particular sentence is just above the monitor, as though it were pleasantly sitting there. There is also a creepy picture of Cosmo the Cougar smiling, if he can smile. His eyes, hidden beneath brows the size of my fists, are empty as he gazes out from the newspaper, his mouth hanging stupidly open in an eternal drool. He watches me whenever I am on the computer. . . and even sometimes when I'm not. I can't bring myself to take the paper down, despite its creepiness. I'm under the spell of the Cosmo.

My roommates don't know it. My roommates can't see it. They don't understand the depths of those terrible, empty eyeholes. They wonder why I sit before the computer for hours on end. I explain it away with "essays" and "Facebook stints." But the truth is with Cosmo. He won't let me leave easily. He forced me to change the "turning on" sound on my computer to the BYU fight song. He made me put a BYU football calendar on my desktop. I am. . . spellbound.

I shudder to think that there may be duplicates of this newspaper clipping out in the world, waiting for the next hapless victim to come their way. One day, there will be babies wearing his face on their pajamas, thousands will throng for a ride on top of his stone replica, books upon books will be printed with his likeness on the cover. Wait--I am informed that these things are already happening. Mark my words: the Cosmos are out to get us!