Although you’ve never scienced before, you are pretty sure you have it in your blood. You barely remember your father, (and what memories you have may very well have been the post-man, who used to deliver his special service package directly to your mom’s room; it’s hard to say), but apparently he was a world famous science guy who scienced the shit out of everything, or something. That science smarts must have been passed down to you just like magic! Having a lack of test tubes, beakers, measuring cylinders, Bunsen Burners, and other sciency equipment; you realize you must first invent an amazing lab setup for yourself. You scour the house for anything that could double as accurate scientific measuring devices. You got this bro! Empty gin bottle? Use a ruler and make some marks on there. One centimeter is equal to one milliliter right? That must be how it works. Awesome! Your mom’s empty pill bottles should double brilliantly as test tubes, complete with cap. Amazing! You’ve got an old propane torch in the garage, BUNSEN THAT SHIT UP! You know you need a stir stick…. you’re pretty sure you remember a big stick you found under your mom’s bed that had a switch that helped it to agitate liquids. Ancillary!
Your laboratory is nearly completed now, all you need are the Earth Angels. Oh, and some scientific method too. Shit, it’s too bad they spent so much time at uni talking about the importance of killing off 80% of the population, and so little time discussing the scientific method. Hmmm…. as best as you can tell, so long as you wear a lab coat and strap on goggles you should be good. Now all you need are cockroaches, but unfortunately you’ve burned up all your energy for the day, and have no ambition left to actually hike on down to the pet store to haggle for some beautiful little Earth Angel darlings. You can barely muster up the umph to crawl upstairs and microwave a pizza pocket. You haven’t worked this hard since that one time you got laid in Las Vegas. You collapse in a heap on your bed and spill your delicious meal all over the basement floor, again.
When you awaken the next afternoon, a science miracle has happened! Finally; your basement is crawling with cockroaches. To be fair, you realize they’ve been there ever since you moved back home, but now, what glory to realize that science had mystically rearranged your entire existence to pass out worthlessly every night spilling all the food necessary to provide the sustenance for their lovely little colony to start growing. Your inability to shut the back door every time you enter the house didn’t hurt matters either. Praise science!
Now that your entire experimental existence is laid out before you, in your amazingly dank mouldy room (mould is science right? It can only help the results!) all you need is to summon all that science buried deep within your bones from the father who fucked off all those years ago, with enough sense to at least plant some peer reviewed seed into your mummy’s tummy. Yay!