Incubation

So it turns out you can buy an incubator off the internet from £75 upwards but I figured it was gonna take way too long to come in the post and time was of the essence. My bun was no longer in the oven so I needed to act fast. I turned to the one thing that I knew was guaranteed to keep my own chicken nuggets warm - my thermal kecks. I suffered the chill and went commando for I happened to be wearing my only pair at the time but it was well worth it to see wee Wayne, as he had now become known, wrapped up snugly in my raggedy old breeks. The guilt factor crept in though when I noticed Wayne was doing more than touching cloth. He was touching a greasy wet skidmark too. Time to call in a favour.

I turned to my mate Barry. He’d help me build my own incubator. Now my knowledge of electrics stops at knowing how to change the batteries on an Xbox controller, so Barry is a relative nuclear engineer next to me. Well he did techy in high school, I know that much. I got him to bring his old infrared heat lamp across. I remembered he had it from the time he tried to rig up his own kebab machine but it got consigned to the garden shed while he showed off his third degree burns to the other guys down at Robot Wars Fight Club. Oops, forgot the first rule of RWFC there.

I found a hamster cage in our neighbours back porch to use as the chamber and fed the stray cat that sometimes comes round at the same time. Me and Barry set too and it wasn't long before we had a rather impressive looking home for my egg, if I do say so myself. It's amazing what two men and a screwdriver can do. The merriment was short lived though as Deborah returned home from work. There was something I had forgotten to do.